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iv- *« 

JUN 16 1)32 


rirst BMtton, ie33<<% r 


ITbe ttemple 


jFtftt) (EDition. 





Author of "John Inglesant" 







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Note by the Publisher. 


HIS fac-fimile has been prepared 
from the copy in the Britifh 
Mufeum. It is wholly a typo- 
graphical reproduction, and for this purpofe 
many Special Punches have been cut, and 
ornaments engraved. The volume is as 
clofe an imitation as poflible of the original 
in fize, in binding, and in the colour and 
texture of the paper. The Firft Edition 
of this Reprint was publifhed in 1876, 
with a fhort Preface, which is replaced 
by the prefent Introductory Effay and 


Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2013 


Introdu&ory Effay, 


»HE invitation to write this intro- 
duction came to me, with a 
furprifing appropriatenefs, upon 
Eafter Day — upon an Eafter morning fuch 
as even an Englifli fpring can fometimes 
afford, a morning bright with funfhine and 
cherry-bloffom and flowers. The primrofe, 
the daffodil, and polyanthus were around 
the windows, and the frefh green of the 
woodlands tinted the diftance, from which 
the church bells were faintly heard ; — 
a feafon chofen by God for feftival, who 
knows how many thoufand years ago! 


As I received it, at the very moment 
even, in many thoufand churches from 
North to South of England, and over the 
breadth of what we may yet call this fair 
land, were the village altars decked, in the 
chill fweet morning air of country places, 
with no gaudy images, but with the " fair 
white linen cloth " upon the wooden table, 
with frefh flowers above, and the worn 
flabs beneath that record the dim names of 
the forgotten dead. Amid the faint ftreaks 
of the early dawn, the faithful, kneeling 
round the oaken railing, take into their 
hands the worn filver of the Grail, cc the 
chalice of the grapes of God." In thefe 
facred places, facred to the beauty of earth 
and of heaven alike, comes over us a blefled 
mood, in which all the fair fcenes of life, 
the sunfets and the fC all-golden afternoons," 
come back upon the mind. The loved and 
lovely appear again. Once again we roam 
in that fairy valley that lies behind each of 
us, into which come nothing but children 


and children's fports, into which nothing 
foul can enter, for the fimple reafon that 
only what was pleafant has remained in the 
memory of that magic time. Moft blefled 
of all gifts, there abide with us all the beft 
and kindly thoughts which we, unworthy of 
fuch guefts, have by the Divine mercy been 
able to entertain. What fhall we call this 
mood ? It is the moft precious thing we 
have. Shall we not dignify it by the loftieft 
name, and call it Religion ? But if this is 
too lofty a word, we will at leaft call it — and 
the altar and the white cloth and the flowers, 
we will at leaft call them — an allegory ; or, 
to fpeak without irreverence, a Sacrament. 

They fpeak to us of that exquifite refine- 
ment which is the peculiar gift and office of 
the Church — a refinement fo perfeft that it 
requires an initiation to comprehend it, 
though thoufands are dimly confcious of its 
influence who do not underftand either it or 
its fource. 

George Herbert himfelf is a type of this 


note of the Church : the afcetic prieft who 
was alfo a fine gentleman, with his fine cloth, 
his cambric fall, and his delicate hands. 
Juft as George Herbert, when on his way to 
the mufic meeting in the Clofe of Sarum, 
hefitated not to foil his hands and clothes, 
"ufually fo neat and clean," in helping the 
man with the cart which had broken down, 
fo this exquifite Church, delicate with the 
fcent of violet and Lent-lily, and with the 
country places which God made arid not 
man — efchewing alike the gaudinefs of one 
ritual and the excitement and noife of other 
appeals to the uncultivated — ftill holds forth 
in town precindts and back alleys and courts 
this gofpel of refinement and facred culture, 
apparently fo alien to the people among 
whom its lot is caft ; and, though it may 
be that other forms feem to win more way, 
and to lure with greater eafe and fuccefs, 
yet to no defpicable number of the rudeft 
and of the outcaft fhe ftill whifpers the 
fecret of a land apparently fo very far off. 


11 Between us and you there is a great 
gulf fixed. " Thefe awful words are grow- 
ing more literally true. The words cc rich " 
and cc poor " are becoming, as Judge Talfourd 
forefaw many years ago, fynonyms for 
" cultured " and u uncultured ; " there is no 
€t dayfman " like the Church of England fo 
ready to the office who can lay his hands on 
both. It is well that, in thefe days, amid the 
blatant idols of the market and the forum, 
culture and refinement, ufually fo filent, 
fhould for once be heard, and, the gage 
of battle being thrown down, this fhould 
be confidently afferted, — that this constantly 
faid fervice, this monotonous repetition, 
this fimple ritual, has produced an effeft 
which no undifciplined effort, no individual 
enthufiafm has ever wrought ; — that this 
defpifed Church of England has produced a 
culture unequalled in the world befide ; that 
it has produced families — generation after 
generation — which no other country, and 
no other clafs in this country, ever faw. 


It will perhaps be admitted that the im- 
mediate effed of the Reformation upon the 
religious habits and inftindts of the mafles 
of the Englifh people was far from one 
of unmixed good. The churches were 
neglected, the monuments of the dead were 
rifled, the clergy were defpifed, and, what 
was worfe, were worthy of contempt. The 
famous fpeech of Luther's wife, that, fome- 
how, they did not pray as they did in the 
old times, was true of England. The 
people learned to think, a precious boon 
certainly, but for fome time the only gain the 
Reformation brought. A reftlefs felf- 
conceit, unchaftened by reverence or 
humility, is perhaps a neceflity of an age 
of religious activity and tranfition ; the 
words addrefled to the Supreme, fo far 
from being few, were many and wild ; 
difcuffion of topics which human intellect 
can never folve had to give way to cultured 
fubmiflion before the path was found which 
led to a pure life. 


Gradually the power of truth, let loofe 
from the fhackles of centuries, began to 
make itfelf felt. The fupreme culture of 
the Elizabethan Age developed itfelf, as all 
culture does, in various forms. The fmoke 
of the martyr fires was yet lingering in the 
air, the death-ftruggle, which meant intel- 
lectual freedom as well as religious life, was 
fcarcely over. The hand was not yet taken 
from the throat of the proftrate foe. To 
the feledl natures, when wearied of fenfual 
pleafure they turned to look for fome other 
fuftenance, religion offered itfelf without any 
of the hindrances that haunt its footfteps at 
the prefent day. Literary criticifm was 
unknown. Faith in a Church had been 
overthrown, but for a moment faith in a 
Book had taken its place. The higheft 
natures threw themfelves into this great 
effort. The Church was defpifed, religion 
flighted, fafhion was againft them, they 
would undertake this crufade of God. 
Donne at forty-two became a prieft, Henry 


WottGn, George Wither, Francis ghiarleSy 
Henry Vaughan, all of them gentlemen and 
men of fafhion, joined in the enterprife. 

"Wit fancies beautie, beautie raifeth wit. 
The world is theirs, only a fcarf or glove 
Doth make them write of love. 
Then fhall our brain 
All her invention on Thine altar lay 
All knees fhall bow to Thee, all wits fhall rife 
and praife Him." 

To this fellowfliip George Herbert and 
Nicholas Ferrar belonged. Their natures 
were not changed ; their inftin&s as gentle- 
men of that age were not changed, their 
fantafdc guife of drefs and fpeech remained 
as before; their fondnefs for violent con- 
traft, which fome now would call the fineft 
humour, the comparing of nobleft things 
with the meaneft, remained as before. 
Herbert fays — ■ 

" Whereas my birth and fpirit rather took 
The way that takes the town, 
Thou didft betray me to a lingering book 
And wrap me in a gown." 


The cc merrie world/' beauty, money, 
glory, wit, and converfation 

u Agree 
To meet together where I lay, 
And all in sport to geere at me ; 
Yet when the hour of thy defigne 
To anfwer thefe fine things mall come, 
Speak not at large, fay, I am Thine." 

Thefe men were the true founders of the 
Church of England. 

And, indeed, it was a nobler crufade than 
the world had, well-nigh, ever seen, for it 
was a crufade in which no human glory was 
to be won. What would the world think 
of a fine gentleman who threw off cc his 
fword and filk clothes " and took upon him 
the drefs of a defpifed order, and, with a 
ruined church and tumble-down parfonage, 
fpent his life amid uncouth villagers ? 

It has been infinuated, I think with fome 
unkindnefs, that George Herbert's dedication, 
if not his religion, was the refult of dis- 
appointed political hopes. That there is 
any reafon for this unkindly fufpicion, I 


fail to see. That George Herbert's taftes 
may have led him towards a courtier's and 
a ftatefman's life, need not be denied. 
Churchmen were often ftatefmen in thofe 
days, and it very naturally feemed to a 
religious man that he could do God's 
fervice as well in one walk as in another ; 
but the concluding years of George Herbert's 
life, the * c Country Parfon," and the 
activity and fweetnefs that marked his 
paftoral life at Bemerton, amidit ever in- 
creaiing weaknefs and approaching death, 
were not the refults of difappointed political 
hopes. Such years do not follow on fuch 
a youth, and fuch fruit is not grown on 
fuch a ftock. Thofe verfes which have 
been called, with Angular infelicity, ° the 
enigmatical hiftory of a difficult refigna- 
tion," are in fad the spiritual inftind: of a 
human life confecrated to God amid the 
pleafures, the temptations, the pains of this 
world's courts and cities. 

George Herbert, a younger fon, always of 


a delicate conftitution and of a refined 
nature, poflefled alfo all the inftindts and 
afpirations of the proud race from which 
he fprang. The only fault his partial 
tutor could find in him at Cambridge, was 
that he kept himfelf too much apart from 
thofe who were fuppofed to be his inferiors, 
and that he took too much care of his 
drefs. A delicate and gentle boy, he re- 
mained under the control of his mother, ot 
whom Donne wrote — 

" No fpring nor fummer beauty hath fuch grace, 
As I have feen in one autumnal face." 

From a child, piety was inftindtive with 
him, but all through his life the inftindts 
of a gentleman and of a courtier were 
ever with him. It was no clownifh 
ignorance of the world's ways that led him 
to renounce them. He had been offered, 
as was an equally fine gentleman in another 
€i Pilgrim's Progrefs," the three daughters 
of the Old Adam to wed. 


" My God/* he wrote at feventeen — 

" Doth Poetry 
Wear Venus' livery ? Cannot Thy love 
Heighten a fpirit to found out Thy praife 
As well as any fhe ? cannot Thy Dove 
Outftrip their Cupid eafily in flight ? n 

To underftand the life of George Herbert, 
we muft ftudy that of his eldeft brother, 
the Lord Herbert of Cherbury. He was a 
remarkable man, but he was not Angular, 
there were others like him, — the refult, as we 
have faid, of the fupreme culture of the 
Elizabethan time. There is a curious 
pi&ure of him by IJaac Oliver, engraved 
by Anthony Walker ', which is very suggef- 
tive both of the man and of his order. In 
a fair wooded landfcape, v/ith flowing water 
and rocky peaks in the diftance, the 
Cavalier, richly drefled, is lying by the fide 
of a rippling brook, his head refting upon his 
hands, his eyes intently fixed upon the run- 
ning water as in deepeft thought. Behind 
him his horfes are held by his efquire, 


his armour is hung upon a tree ; by his 
fide is his fword, and over him lies a long 
pointed Norman fhield, with the blazon of 
a flame, and the words Magica Sympathise. 
It is a parable of the man and of thofe 
like him, and of the age in which he lived. 
A parable of the foldier, the gallant, the 
fcholar, whofe . duels and hairbreadth 
efcapes were the talk of men ; whofe 
treatife cc De Veritate " was a new de- 
parture in philofophic thought, and whofe 
hiftory ftands, even now, in the fame rank 
with Mr. Fronde's ; who believed in the 
unfeen and the fupernatural, in apparitions 
and angels, and in the magic cure of 
wounds. Life to fuch a man was one vaft 
enchanted fcrcft or Dodona's grove, full of 
ftrange fights and lovely viftas of pleafure, 
where nothing is merely what it feems, but 
where the myftery of life and its beauty is 
revealed in equal paths, where the terrible 
and the entrancing walk hand in hand ; — 
now a dance upon the greenfward, then a 



defperate ftruggle for life ; at one moment 
the great horfe and heavy armour, anon 
filks and laces, and the ladies' bower and 
lute. On every hand around him, in 
Germany and France and Italy, and even 
in ftrange and diftant Spain, are mighty 
forefts and rivers, and wonderful old-world 
cities full of intrigue and ftrife and delight, 
with faireft forms as of women upon the 
walls and gates and upon the drawbridges 
of the fairy caftles, the fpirits of learning 
and free thought juft releafed from their 
fhackles, and calling upon the fearlefs and 
undaunted ftranger to enter in and tafte. 

Such was the Lord Herbert of Cherbury, 
George Herbert's eldeft brother, who allowed 
him his income, who protected his mother, 
the head of the houfe to whom he looked 
up ; and it was this George Herbert who was 
called the Holy, and who fpent his mature 
years amid country people, encouraging 
poor women to confide to him their 
troubles and their hopes. 


We do not know the order in which 
Herbert's poems were compofed, therefore 
we cannot pretend to trace a change of 
fpiritual life in them. The cc Country 
Parfon," written at Bemerton in the laft 
year of his life, expounds the fame fober, 
reaibnable religion as does the cc Church 
Porch," which fome have fancied cc contains 
no traces of confecration," and may there- 
fore be taken as an early poem. But, 
indeed, we may fafely decide that there was 
no change nor crifis in Herbert's life ; that 
his poetry and his life together flow on in 
one unbroken ftream ; and that the young 
fcholar, the courtier, the parifh prieft were 
one and the fame. What, then, is the 
peculiar afpe6t of his poetry and of his reli- 
gion, and what, therefore, has been his work 
and teaching in the Church ? His poetry is 
like the man. He was a devoted Protef- 
tant <c Church of England man." There 
is not a trace of Romanift or even High- 
Church tendency in the poems or in the 


u Country Parfon." His creed is well 
expreffed in the poem entitled " The 
Britifh Church/' 

u A fine afpect, in fit array, 
Neither too mean, nor yet too gay, 

Shows who is belt. 
Outlandifh looks may not compare, 
For all they either painted are, 

Or elfe undreffed." 

The religious fopperies of Romanifm and 
the flovenly attire of Diffent, 

" So fhie 
Of drefling that her hair doth lie about her ears," 

are neither of them to his tafte. In the 
cc Country Parfon" he does not even infift 
upon monthly Communion, only suggefting 
more than the rubrical three Communions 
in the year, as enabling the churchwardens 
to perceive more conveniently who com- 
municated three times and who did not. 
The Church muft be kept fweet and 
cc clean, without duft or cobwebs, and at 
great feftivals ftrawed and ftuck with 


boughs and perfumed with incenfe," and 
all who enter it muft kneel and pray in 
reverence to God, whofe houfe it is ; but 
there is no mention of a Sacrificial Prefence 
to which reverence is due. He held, as 
the Nonconformist minifters moft ftrongly 
held, that a great power was given them to 
bind and to loofe, — 

" With one hand thou lifteft to the fky, 
And with the other throweft down to Hell ;" 

neverthelefs it feems to have been a mild 
aflumption. It is the churchwardens who 
are to prefent to the ordinary, though if 
they fail, from fear or favour towards their 
great neighbours, the parfon muft take the 
duty upon himfelf, " only protecting to 
them that not any ill-will draws him to it, 
but the debt and obligation of his calling 
being to obey God rather than man." 

He was, in fact, of the generation which 
preceded the High Church movement. 
He went to Cambridge in 1608, when the 


Church was warmly Proteftant, and even 
Calviniftic. He is reported to have faid 
that he would not give up one page of the 
Holy Scriptures for the whole world, and 
he objected to fome things in Ferraris 
tranflation of Valdejjo, as exalting per- 
fonal communion and infpiration above the 
written Word. Perfonally, his poetry is 
that of an enthufiaftic follower of his Lord ; 
the name of Jefus does not occur fo often, 
perhaps, as we might expedfc, but in many 
hymns addrefled to the Deity the prevailing 
idea is that of love and devotion to the 
fuffering Son of Man. 

He has a true love for a country life, in 
fpite of his town habits. He is learned in 
herbs and plants, and has that religious 
fympathy with flowers which is a note of 
the true Church. In church, in the hour of 
worfhip, no earthly fympathy is fo perfedt 
as that of the flowers of the field. 

It feems to me unneceflary to fay much 
upon the literary merits or defeats of Her- 


berfs poetry. Dr. Grqfart has given us an 
analyfis with great care and minutenefs. It 
may be doubted whether his poetry will 
ever be generally popular again : but it 
poffeffes a ftrength of expreiTion and a 
reality of feeling which will, I think, always 
enfure to it an audience, fit if few. Its 
chara&eriftics feem to me to be precifely 
thefe, — ftrength of purpofe and reality of 
infight, combined with quaintnefs and care- 
leflhefs of expreflion. Here and there you 
find three or four lines of great felicity and 
melody of rythm, but this is never con- 
tinued for long, and feems, indeed, the 
refult of chance. 

Let us, then, rather try to realife the work 
that George Herbert did for the Church, and 
the leflbn and the legacy that he left behind 
him. For his work he left a body of 
poetry which for one hundred years at leaft 
filled the place which this century has feen 
occupied by cc The Chriftian Year;" for his 
legacy he left the memory of a fweet and 


holy life : but others alfo have done both 
of thefe. Henry Vaughan and John Keble 
have left us finer poetry, and there are few 
homes in which is not cherifhed the Com- 
munion of the Holy Dead. What feems 
to have been the peculiar miffion of Herbert 
and of his fellows, is that they fhowed the 
Englifh people what a fine gentleman who 
was alfo a Chriftian and a Churchman might 
be. They fet the tone of the Church of 
England, and they revealed with no ineffi- 
cient or temporary effect to the uncultured 
and unlearned the true refinement of wor- 
fhip. They united delicacy of tafte in 
the choice of ornament and of mufic with 
culture of exprefiion and of referve, and 
they fhowed that this was not incompatible 
with devoted work and life. Nothing is 
bafe or little in God's fervice. cc If it once 
have the honour of that name, it grows 
great inftantly. Wherefore neither dif- 
daineth he to enter into the pooreft cottage, 
though he even creep into it, and though it 


fmell never fo loathfomely. For both God 
is there alfo, and thofe for whom God died, 
and fo much the more as his accefs is more 
comfortable to the poor than to the rich, 
and in regard to himfelf it is more humilia- 
tion." It may be faid that a Christian 
ftiould be unconfcious of this fhrinking and 
of this humiliation ; it was precifely becaufe 
George Herbert was not fo unconfcious that 
I take his miffion to have been what it was, 
and the Church of England to be what 
fhe is. 

The note he ftruck has never ceafed to 
vibrate, even in the darkeft and fouleft 
times, and if in days of more enthufiafm 
and fpiritual life this note feems too delicate 
and refined to reach far enough into the 
din and tumult of common life, — if other 
forms lefs careful of culture and of tafte 
feem more fuccefsful in the battle of the 
Crofs, — we may yet well believe that this 
peculiar miffion of the Church is not with- 
out its fupreme value, nor without the 


fpecial feal of approbation from on High ; 
for what is perfeft in any direction muft be 
the higheft, though for a time expediency 
may make ufe of other means, and in the 
long courfe of years that which is in 
accordance with the higheft inftinfts of the 
fineft natures will be taken as the type and 
flower of the whole. 

J. H. S. 




The Bibliography. 


iEARLY all George Herbert's 
writings were publifhed poft- 
humoufly ; and cc The Temple " 
has all the intereft of a fpecial perfonal 
bequeft. When on his deathbed, Herbert 
was vifited by Mr. Duncon, he sent a 
meflage to his " brother Ferrar? (of Zi///d? 
Gidding), as he loved to call him, defiring 
his intereft for the " little book ; " telling 
him he fhould find in it cc a pidture of the 
many fpiritual conflicts that have patted 
betwixt God and my foul, before I could 
fubjed mine to the will of Jefus my 


Mafter, in Whofe fervice I have now found 
perfedfc freedom. Defire him to read it ; 
and then, if he can think it may turn to the 
advantage of any deje<5ted poor foul, let it 
be made public ; if not, let him burn it ; 
for I, and it, are lefs than the leaft of God's 

Mr. Ferrar had the infight to fee the 
worth of the cc little book," and its capacity 
to aid and to edify pious fouls, and he had 
also the decifion to fight againft the demand 
of the licenfer at Cambridge, though delay 
thus arofe in its iffue. The Vice- 
Chancellor at firft refufed to let pafs what 
are now two very noted lines in the 
" Church Militant : "— 

"Religion Hands on tiptoe in our land, 
Ready to pafs to the American ftrand." 

Mr. Ferrar flood his ground firmly, 
with the refult that, on his reprefentations, 
the Vice-Chancellor finally gave way, with 
the words : <c I knew Mr. Herbert well, 
and know that he was a divine poet ; but 


I hope the world will not take him to be an 
infpired prophet, and therefore I licenfe the 
whole book." The firft edition was there- 
fore printed exactly from Mr. Herbert's 
MS., save only for typographical errors, 
which were numerous, and which are, of 
neceffity, followed in a faithful fac-fimile. 

The title was not that given to the 
cc little book " by Herbert himfelf, who had 
fimply named it cc The Church/' but it 
was a felicitous thing in Mr. Ferrar to 
adopt cc TheTemple," hadit been for nothing 
fave the fcriptural motto thus made so apt 
and happy : " In his Temple doth every 
man /peak Oj his honour'' (Psalm xxix.) 
cc The Temple" was publifhed in 1633. 
Mr. Ferrar ', it would appear, threw off a few 
impreftions for prefentation purpofes, which 
had a different title-page from that of the 
firft edition. They were undated ; and of 
these undated copies only one fingle 
example is now known to exift, and that 
till recently was in the poffeffion of Henry 


Huth, Efq., an objedt of unique intereft. 
A fecond edition fpeedily followed the firft 
in 1633, an d w *th ^e exception of the 
imprint on the title-page it is identical with 
the undated copy. 

The firft edition fo exacftly follows the 
undated copies in every particular, that- it 
is iuppofed the types had been kept (land- 
ing. The fecond edition, though anfwering 
page for page and line for line, had evidently 
been cc re-fet " up. The third edition 
followed in 1634; the fourth in 1635 ; the 
fifth in 1638; the fixth in T64.1 ; the 
feventh in 1656 ; the eighth in 1660 ; the 
ninth in 1667; the tenth in 1674; the 
eleventh in 1679; the twelfth in 1703; 
the thirteenth in 1709. The text remained 
the fame from the firft to the fixth editions ; 
from 1 640 cc The Synagogue " of Chrifto- 
pher Harvey accompanied cc The Temple ;" 
from 1656 onward there were ortho- 
graphical alterations; and from 1659 
corruptions began to appear in the text, 


for the correction of many of which thanks 
are due to Dr. Grofart^ of Blackburn. 

It is very curious to find, however, that 
the original edition, which was fo long 
implicitly followed, contained many typo- 
graphical blunders, which in fome inftances 
affeded the fenfe. Particularly was this 
the cafe in the fubftitution of cc no " for 
fC mo " in the eighth line of the sedion 
"Man." Dr. Grojart deferves the thanks 
of all ftudents and admirers of George 
Herbert for the pains he has taken in 
collating the various editions and MSS. 
Full lifts of thefe typographical and other 
variations will be found in his "Memorial 
Introduction" to Herbert's Poetical Works 
(Bell & Daldy, 1876). 



€35 S® 





By Mr. George Herbert. 



PsAL. 2 9 . 

: ^Fsl /« ^/J" Temple doth every l<i 

man f peak of his honour 

'1002 3£3i 


A>JV; uT\i* - 




ll&l Printed by Thorn. Buck, '$& 

t^2 Bra* 


and Roger ^Daniel, printers 

l6 33- 



f The Dedication. 

LOrd, my fir ft fruits prefent themj elves to thee\ 
Tet not mine neither: for from thee they came, 
And muft return. Accept of them and me, 
And ma\e us ftrive,who Jhallfing beft thy name. 
Turn their eyes hither, who Jh all ma\e a gain : 
Theirs, zvho Jhall hurt themj elves orme y refrain. 

The Printers to the Reader. 

He dedication of this work having been 
made by the Authour to the Divine Ma- 
kefile onely,how fhould we now prefume 
to interefi any mortall man in the patro- 
nage of it? Much lefle think we it meet 
to feek the recommendation of the Mufes, for that 
which himfelf was confident to have beeninfpired by 
a diviner breath then flows from Helicon. The world 
therefore mail receive it in that naked fimplicitie, with 
which he left it, without any addition either of fupport 
or ornament,more then is included in it felf. We leave 
it free and unforeftalled to every mans judgement,and 
to the benefit that he mail finde by perufall. Onely for 
the clearing of fome paflages, we have thought it not 
unfit to make the common Reader privie to fome few 
particularities of the condition and difpofition of the 

Being nobly born, and as eminently endued with 
gifts of the minde,and having by induftrieand happy 
education perfected them to that great height of excel- 
lencie,whereof his fellowfhip of Trinitie Colledge in 
Cambridge , and his Orator-fhip in the Univerfitie, 
together with that knowledge which the Kings Court 
had taken of him, could make relation farre above or- 
dinarie. Quitting both his dcferts and all the opportu- 
nities that he had for worldly preferment, he betook 
himfelf to the Sanctuarie and Temple of God, choo- 
fing rather to ferve at Gods Altar, then to feek the ho- 

fl" 2 nour 

nour of State-employments. As for thofe inward en- 
forcements to this courfe(for outward there was none) 
which many of thefe enfuing verfes bear witneffe of, 
they detract not from the freedome , but adde to the 
honour of this refolution in him. As God had enabled 
him, fo he accounted him meet not onely to be called,, 
but to be compelled to this fervice : Wherein his faith- 
full difcharge was fuch,as may make him juftly a com- 
panion to the primitive Saints, and a pattern or more 
for the age he lived in. 

To teflifie his independencie upon all others, and 
to quicken hisdiligence in this kinde,heufedinhis or- 
dinarie fpeech, when he made mention of the bleffed 
name of our Lord and Saviour Jefus Chrift, to adde, 
My Mafter. 

Next God, he loved that which God himfelf hath 
magnified above all things, that is, his Word: fo as he 
hath been heard to make folemne proteftation, that he 
would not part with one leaf thereof for the whole 
world, if it were offered him in exchange. 

His obedience and conformitie to the Church and 
the difcipline thereof was fingularly remarkable. 
Though he abounded in private devotions, yet went 
he every morning and evening with his familie to the 
Church;and by his example, exhortations, and encou- 
ragements drew the greater part of his parifhioners to* 
accompanie him dayly in the publick celebration ot 
Divine Service. 

As for worldly matters,his love andefteem to them 
was fo little , as no man can more ambitioufly feek, 
then he did earneftly endeavour the refignation of an 
Ecclefiaflicall dignitie,whichhe was poflefTour of.But 
God permitted nottheaccomplifhment of this defire, 
having ordained him his inftrument for reedifying of 
the Church belonging thereunto, that hadlayen rui- 
nated almoit twenty yeares. The reparation whereof, 


having been unefFectually attempted by publick col- 
lections , was in the end by his own and fome few 
others private free-will offerings fuccesfully effected. 
With the remembrance whereof, as of an efpeciall 
good work, when a friend went about to comfort him 
on his death-bed, he made anfwer, TV is a good wor\ , 
if it be fprin\led with the bloud of Cbrift: otherwife 
then in this refpect he could finde nothing to glorie or 
comfort himfelf with, neither in this,nor in any other 

And thefe are but a few of many that might be faid, 
which we havechofen topremife as a glance to fome 
parts of the enfuing book, and for an example to the 
Reader. We conclude all with his own Motto, with 
which he ufed to conclude all things that might feem 
to tend any way to his own honour; 

Leffe then the leaf of Gods mercies. 

The Church-porch. 
Perirrhanteriutn . 

I Hou, whofe fweet youth and early hopes in- 

5Thy rate and price , and mark thee for z 

Hearken unto a Verfer , who may chance 
Ryme thee to good, and make a bait of pleafure. 
A verfe may rlnde him, who a fermon flies, 
And turn delight into a lacrirlce. 

Beware of lull:: it doth pollute and foul 

Whom God in Baptifme wafht with his own blood. 

It blots thy lerTon written in thy foul; 

The holy lines cannot be underftood. 
How dare thofe eyes upon a Bible look, 
Much lefTe towards God,whofe lull is all their book? 

Abftain wholly,or wed. Thy bounteous Lord 

Allows thee choife of paths: take no by-wayes; 

But gladly welcome what he doth afford; 

Not grudging,that thy luft hath bounds and ftaies. 
Continence hath his joy: weigh both ; and fo 
If rottenneffe have more,let Heaven go. 

If God had laid all common, certainly 

Man would have been th'inclofer : but fince now 

God hath impal'd us on the contrarie 

Man breaks the fence, and every ground will plough. 
O what were man, might he himfelf mifplace 
Sure to be croffe he would fliift feet and face. 

A Drink 

2 The Church-porch. 

Drink not the third glafTe, which thou canft not tame, 
When once it is within thee ; but before 
Mayft rule it,as thou lift; and poure the fhame, 
Which it would poure on thee, upon the floore. 
It is moft juft to throw that on the ground, 
Which would throw me there, if I keep the round. 

He that is drunken, may his mother kill 

Bigge with his fifter: he hath loft the reins, 

Isoutlawd by himfelf : all kinde of ill 

Did with his liquour Hide into his veins. 
The drunkard forfets Man, and doth deveft 
All worldly right,fave what he hath by beaft. 

Shall I,to pleafe anothers wine-fprung minde, 
Lofe all mine own ? God hath giv'n me a meafure 
Short of his canne,and bodie; muft I finde 
A pain in that, wherein he rlndes a pleafure? 
Stay at the third glafte: if thou lofe thy hold, 
Then thou art modeft,and the wine grows bold. 

[f reafon move not Gallants , quit the room, 
(All in a fhipwrack fhift their feverall way) 
Let not a common ruine thee intombe : 
Be not a beaft in courtefie ; but ftay, 

Stay at the third cup, or forgo the place. 

Wine above all things doth Gods ftamp deface. 

Yet, if thou finne in wine or wantonnefTe, 

Boaft not thereof ; nor make thy fhame thy glorie. 

Frailtie gets pardon by fubmifsivenefTe ; 

But he that boafts, ihuts that out of his ftorie. 
He makes flat warre with God,and doth defle 
With his poore clod of earth the fpacious sky. 


The Church-porch. 3 

Take not his name, who made thy mouth,in vain: 
It gets thee nothing,and hath no excufe. 
Luil and wine plead a pleafure,avarice gain: 
But the cheap {"wearer through his open fluce 

Lets his foul runne for nought, as little fearing. 

Were I an Epicure, I could bate fwearing. 

When thou dofl tell anothers jefl,therein 
Omit the oathes, w T hich true wit cannot need: 
Pick out of tales the mirth, but not the finne. 
He pares his apple, that will cleanly feed. 

Play not away the vertue of that name, (tame. 

Which is thy bell flake , when griefs make thee 

The cheapefl finnes mofl dearely punifht are ; 

Becaufe to fhun them alio is fo cheap : 

For we have wit to mark them, and to fpare. 

O crumble not away thy fouls fair heap. 
If thou wilt die, the gates of hell are broad: 
Pride and full finnes have made the way a road. 

Lie not; but let thy heart be true to God, 
Thy mouth to it, thy actions to them both: 
Cowards tell lies, and thofe that fear the rod; 
The flormie working foul fpits lies and froth. 
Dare to be true. Nothing can need a ly: 
A fault, which needs it moil,grows two thereby. 

Flie idlenefTe, which yet thou canfl not flie 
By dreffing,miflrefling, and complement. 
If thofe take up thy day, the funne will crie 
Againfl thee : for his light was onely lent. (thers 

God gave thy foul brave wings ; put not thofe fea- 
Into a bed, to deep out all ill weathers. 

A 2 Art 

4 The Church-porch. 

Art thou a Magiftrate ? then be fevere: 
If fludious; copie fair, what time hath blurr^l; 
Redeem truth from his jawes : if fouldier, 
Chafe brave employments with a naked fword 

Throughout the world. Fool not : for all may hav e, 
If they dare try, a glorious life,or grave. 

O England! full of flnne,but moft of floth; 
Spit out thy flegme,and fill thy breft with glorie: 
Thy Gentry bleats, as if thy native cloth 
Transfus'd a fheepifhneile into thy ftorie: 
Not that they all are fo; but that the moft 
Are gone to grafle, and in the pafture loft. 

This lofle fprings chiefly from our education. 
Some till their ground,but let weeds choke their fonne : 
Some mark a partridge, never their childes fafhion: 
Some fhip them over, and the thing is done. 

Study this art, and make it thy great defigne; 

And if God's image move thee not,let thine. 

Some great eftates provide, but doe not breed 
A maft'ring minde ; fo both are loft thereby : 
Or els they breed them tender, make them need 
All that they leave : this is flat povertie. 

For he,that needs five thoufand pound to live, 
Is full as poore as he,that needs but five. 

The way to make thy fonne rich,is to fill 
His minde with reft, before his trunk with riches: 
For wealth without contentment, climbes a hill 
To feel thofe tempefts, which fly over ditches. 

But if thy fonne can make ten pound his meafure, 
Then all thou addeft may be calPd his treafure. 


The Church-porch. 5 

When thou doft purpofe ought, (within thy power) 
Be fure to doe it, though it be but fmall: 
Conftancie knits the bones,and makes us ftowre, 
When wanton pleafures becken us to thrall. 
Who breaks his own bond, forfeith himfelf : 
What nature made a ihip, he makes a fhelf. 

Doe all things like a man, not fneakingly: 

Think the king fees thee ftill ; for his King does. 

Simpringis but a lay-hyp ocri fie: 

Give it a corner,and the clue undoes. 
Who fears to do ill, fets himfelf to task: 
Who fears to do well,fure fhould wear a mask. 

Look to thy mouth; difeafes enter there. 
Thou haft two fconfes, if thy ftomack call ; 
Carve,or difcourfe; do not a famine fear. 
Who carves,is kind to two;who talks,to all. 

Look on meat,think it dirt,then eat a bit; 

And fay withall, Earth to earth I commit. 

Slight thofe who fay amidft their fickly healths, 
Thou liv'ft by rule. What doth not fo, but man> 
Houfes are built by rule, and common-wealths. 
Entice the trufty funne, if that you can, 

From his Ecliptick line: becken the skie. 

Who lives by rule then, keeps good companie. 

Who keeps no guard upon himfelf, is flack. 
And rots to nothing at the next great thaw. 
Man is a fhop of rules, a well trufs'd pack, 
Whofe every parcell under-writes a law. 

Lofe not thy felf , nor give thy humours way: 
God gave them to thee under lock and key, 

A3 By 

6 The Church-porch. 

By all means ufe fometimes to be alone. 

Salute thy felf : fee what thy foul doth wear. 

Dare to look in thy cheft ; for 'tis thine own: 

And tumble up and down what thou find'ft there. 
Who cannot reft till he good fellows flnde, 
He breaks up houfe,turns out of doores his minde. 

Be thriftie, but not covetous : therefore give 

Thy need,thine honour,and thy friend his due. 

Never was fcraper brave man. Get to live ; 

Then live, and ufe it : els,it is not true 
That thou haft gotten. Surely ufe alone 
Makes money not a contemptible ftone. 

Never exceed thy income. Youth may make 
Ev'n with the yeare : but age, if it will hit, 
Shoots a bow fhort,and lefTens ftill his ftake, 
As the day leftens, and his life with it. 

Thy children, kindred.friends upon thee call; 

Before thy journey fairly part with all. 

Yet in thy thriving ftill mifdoubt fome evil; 

Left gaining gain on thee,and make thee dimme 

To all things els. Wealth is the conjurers devil ; 

Whom when he thinks he hath, the devil hath him. 
Gold thou mayft fafely touch, but if it ftick 
Unto thy hands, it woundeth to the quick. 

What skills it, if a bag of ftones or gold 
About thy neck do drown thee? raife thy head; 
Take ftarres for money; ftarres not to be told 
By any art, yet to be purchafed. 

None is fo waftcfull as the fcraping dame. 

She lofeth three for one;her foul,reft,fame. 


The Church-porch. 

Bv no means runne in debt : take thine own meafure. 
Who cannot live on twentie pound a yeare, 
Cannot on fourtie : he's a man of pleafure, 
A kinde of thing that's for it felf too deare. 

The curious unthrift makes his cloth too wide, 
And fpares himfelf , but would his taylor chide. 

Spend not on hopes. They that by pleading clothes 
Do fortunes feek, when worth and fervice fail, 
Would have their tale beleeved for their oathes, 
And are like empty veflels under fail. 

Old courtiers know this ; therefore fet out fo, 
As all the day thou mayit hold out to go. 

In clothes, cheap handfomenefie doth bear the bell. 

Wifedome's a trimmer thing, then mop e're gave. 

Say not then, This with that lace will do well; 

But, This with my difcretion will be brave. 
Much curioufnefTe is a perpetuall wooing 
Nothing with labour; folly long a doing. 

Play not for gain, but fport. Who playes for more, 
Then he can lofe with pleafure, Hakes his heart; 
Perhaps his wives too,and whom fhe hath bore: 
Servants and churches alfo play their part. 
Onely a herauld,who that way doth paffe, 
Findes his crackt name at length in the church-glaife. 

If yet thou love game at fo deere a rate, 
Learn this, that hath old gameilers deerely coll: 
Doll lofe? rife up :doll winne? rife in that ilate. 
Who drive to fit out lofing hands,are loll. 
Game is a civil gunpowder, in peace 
Blowing up houies with their whole increafe. 

A 4 In 

8 The Church-porch. 

In converfation boldnefle now bears fwqv 
But know, that nothing can fo foolifh be, 
As empty boldneiTe: therefore firft allay 
To ftuffe thy minde with folid braverie; 

Then march on gallant: get fubftantiall worth. 

BoldneiTe guilds finely, and will fet it forth. 

Be fweet to all. Is thy complexion fowre? 

Then keep fuch companie ; make them thy af*ay: 

Get a fharp wife,a fervant that will lowre. 

A ftumbler Humbles leaft in rugged way. 

Command thy felf in chief. He lifes warre knows, 
Whom all his pafhons follow, as he goes. 

Catch not at quarrels. He that dares not fpeak 
Plainly and home, is coward of the two. 
Think not thy fame at ev'ry twitch will break: 
By great deeds fhew, that thou canft little do; 

And do them not : that mall thy wifdome be ; 

And change thy temperance into braverie. 

If that thy fame with ev'ry toy be pos'd, 

'Tis a thinne webbe, which poyfonous fancies make: 

But the great fouldiers honour was compos'd 

Of thicker ftuffe, which would endure a make. 

Wifdome picks friends; civilitie playes the reft. 

A toy fhunn'd cleanly paiTeth with the befl. 

Laugh not too much: the wittie man laughs leaft: 

For wit is newes onely to ignorance. 

LefTe at thine own things laugh; left in the jeft 

Thy perfon fhare,and the conceit advance. 
Make not thy fport.abufes: for the fly 
That feeds on dung, is coloured therebv. 


The Church-porch. g 

Pick out of mirth, like flones out of thy ground, 

ProfaneneiTe, nlthineffe, abufiveneffe. 

Thefe are the fcumme,with which courfe wits abound : 

The fine may fpare thefe well, yet not go lefle. 

All things are bigge with jeft: nothing that's plain, 
But may be wittie, if thou hall the vein. 

Wit's an unruly engine, wildly finking 
Sometimes a friend, fometimes the engineer. 
Hall thou the knack? pamper it not with liking: 
But if thou want it, buy it not too deere. 
Many affecting wit beyond their power, 
Have got to be a deare fool for an houre. 

A fad wife valour is the brave complexion, 
That leads the van, and fwallows up the cities. 
The gigler is a milk-maid , whom infection, 
Or a fir'd beacon frighteth from his ditties. 

Then he's the fport: the mirth then in him refts, 
And the fad man is cock of all his jefls. 

Towards great perfons ufe refpe£live boldnefle : 
That temper gives them theirs, and yet doth take 
Nothing from thine : in fervice,care,or coldneffe 
Doth ratably thy fortunes marre or make. 
Feed no man in his finnes: for adulation 
Doth make thee parcell-devil in damnation, 

Envie not greatneffe: for thou mak'st thereby 
Thy feif the worfe, and fo the diflance greater. 
Be not thine own worm: yet fuch jealoufie, 
As hurts not others, but may make thee better, 

Is a good fpurre. Correct thy palTions fpite; 

Then may the beafls draw thee to a happy light. 
A c When 

io The Church-porch. 

When bafenelTe is exalted, do not bate 
The place its honour,for the perfons fake. 
The fhrine is that which thou doll venerate; 
And not the beaft,that bears it on his back. 

I care not though the cloth of Hate mould be 

Not of rich arras, but mean tapeftrie. 

Thy friend put in thy bofome : wear his eies 

Still in thy heart, that he may fee what's there. 

If caufe require, thou art his facrifice; 

Thy drops of bloud mull pay down all his fear : 
But love is loft; the way of friendlhip's gone, 
Though "David had his Jonathan^ChriJi his John. 

Yet be not furety,if thou be a father. 

Love is a perfonall debt. I cannot give 

My childrens right, nor ought he take it: rather 

Both friends Ihould die,then hinder them to live. 

Fathers flrft enter bonds to natures ends; 

And are her fureties, ere they are a friends. 

If thou be fingle,all thy goods and ground 
Submit to love; but yet not more then all. 
Give one eftate, as one life. None is bound 
To work for two, who brought himfelf to thrall. 
God made me one man; love makes me no mere, 
Till labour come, and make my weaknefle fcore. 

In thy difcourfe, if thou defire to pleafe: 
All fuch is courteous,ufefull,new, or wittic 
\jfefulneiTe comes by labour, wit by eafe; 
Courtelie grows in court; news in the citie. 
Get a good ftock of thefe, then draw the card : 
That fuites him beft,of whom thy fpeech is heard, 


Tie Churh-porch. 1 1 

Entice all neatly to what they know beft; 

For fo thou doll thy felf and him a pleafure: 

(But a proud ignorance will lofe his reft, 

Rather then (hew his cards,) fteal from his treafure 
What to ask further. Doubts well rais'd do lock 
The fpeaker to thee, and preferve thy ftock. 

If thou be Mafter-gunner, fpend not all 
That thou canft fpeak,at once; but husband it, 
And give men turns of fpeech: do not foreftall 
By lavifhnefle thine own.and others wit, 
As if thou mad'ft thy will. A civil gueft 
Will no more talk all. then eat all the feaft. 

Be calm in arguing: for fiercenefTe makes 

Errour a fault, and truth difcourtefie. 

Why mould I feel another mans miftakes 

More, then his ficknefTes or povertie? 
In love I fhould: but anger is not love, 
Norwifdome neither: therefore gently move. 

CalmnelTe is great advantage :he that lets 
Another chafe, may w r arm him at his fire: 
Mark all his wandrings.and enjoy his frets; 
As cunning fencers fuffer heat to tire. 

Truth dwels not in the clouds :the bow that's there, 
Doth often aim at, never hit the fphere. 

Mark what another fayes: for many are 
Full of themfelves, and anfwer their own notion. 
Take all into thee;then with equall care 
Ballance each dramme of reafon, like a potion. 
If truth be with thy friend,be with them both: 
Share in the conqueft,and confefTe a troth 


12 The Church-porch. 

Be ufefull where thou liveft, that they may 
Both want,and wifh thy pleafmg prefence ftill. 
Kindneffe,good parts,great places are the way 
To compafle this. Finde out mens wants and will, 

And meet them there. All worldly joyes go lefle 

To the one joy of doing kindnefles. 

Pitch thy behaviour low, thy projects high; 
So fhalt thou humble and magnanimous be: 
Sink not in fpiritrwho aimeth at the sky, 
Shoots higher much then he that means a tree. 
A grain of glorie mixt with humblenefle 
Cures both a fever and lethargickneffe. 

Let thy minde ftill be bent,ftill plotting where, 
And when,and how the bufineffe may be done. 
Slacknefle breeds worms; but the fure traveller, 
Though he alight fometimes, ftill goeth on. 

Active and ftirring fpirits live alone. 

Write on the others, Here lies fuch a one. 

Slight not the fmalleft loffe, whether it be 
In love or honour : take account of all; 
Shine like the funne in every corner: fee 
Whether thy ftock of credit fwell, or fall. 

Who fay, I care not, thofe I give for loft; 

And to inftrucl them, 'twill not quit the coft. 

Scorn no mans love,though of a mean degree; 

(Love is a prefent for a mightie king) 

Much leffe make any one thine enemie. 

As gunnes deftroy, fo may a little fling. 
The cunning workman never doth refufe 
The meaneft tool,that he mav chance to ufe. 


The Church- porch. i 3 

All forrain wifdome doth amount to this, 
To take all that is given; whether wealth, 
Or love, or language; nothing comes amifle: 
A good digeflion turneth all to health: 
And then as farre as fair behaviour may, 
Strike oil all fcores ; none are fo cleare as they. 

Keep all thy native good, and naturalize 

All forrain of that name; but fcorn their ill : 

Embrace their adlivenefle, nor vanities. 

Who follows all things, forfeiteth his will. 
If thou obfervefl flrangers in each fit, 
In time they'l runne thee out of all thy wit. 

Afreet in things about thee cleanlinefTe, 
That all may gladly board thee, as a flowre. 
Slovens take up their flock of noifomnefle 
Beforehand , and anticipate their lafl houre. 
Let thy mindes fweetneffe have his operation 
Upon thy body, clothes, and habitation. 

In Almes regard thy means, and others merit 

Think heav'n a better bargain, then to give 

Onely thy fingle market-money for it. 

Joyn hands with God to make a man to live. 
Give to all fomething; to a good poore man, 
Till thou change names,and be where he began. 

Man is God's image ; but a poore man is 
Chrifls ilamp to boot: both images regard. 
God reckons for him, counts the favour his: 
Write, So much giv'n to God; thou fhalt be heard. 
Let thy almes go before, and keep heav'ns gate 
Open for thee; or both may come too late. 


14 The Church-porch. 

Reftore to God his due in tithe and time: 
A tithe purloin'd cankers the whole eftate. 
Sundaies obferve: think when the bells do chime, 
'Tis angels mufick; therefore come not late. 
God then deals blefnngs : If a king did fo, 
Who would not hafte, nay give, to fee the mow? 

Twice on the day his due is underflood; 
For all the week thy food fo oft he gave thee. 
Thy cheere is mended; bate not of the food, 
Becaufe 'tis better, and perhaps may fave thee. 

Thwart not th' Almighty God: O be not crofle. 

Fall when thou wilt; but then 'tis gain,not lofle. 

Though private prayer be a brave defigne, 
Yet publick hath more promifes,more love: 
And love's a weight to hearts, to eies a figne. 
We all are but cold fuitours; let us move 

Where it is warmeft. Leave thy fix and feven; 

Pray with the moil : for where moll pray, is heaven. 

When once thy foot enters the church, be bare. 
God is more there, then thou: for thou art there 
Onely by his permifTion. Then beware, 
And make thy felf all reverence and fear. 

Kneeling ne're fpoil'd filk flockings: quit thy Hate. 

All equall are within the churches gate. 

Refort to fermons, but to prayers mofl: 
Praying 's the end of preaching. O be drefl; 
Stay not for th' other pin : why thou hall loll 
A joy for it worth worlds. Thus hell doth jell 
Away thy bleffings, and extreamly flout thee, 
Thy clothes being fafl,but thy foul loofe about thee. 


The Cburcb-porcb. 25 

In time of fervice feal up both thine eies, 
And fend them to thine heart; that fpying finne, 
They may weep out the flams by them did rife: 
Thofe doores being fhut,all by the eare comes in. 
Who marks in church-time others fymmetrie, 
Makes all their beautie his deformitie. 

Let vain or bufie thoughts have there no part: 

Bring not thy plough, thy plots, thy pleafures thither. 

Chrift purg'd his temple; fo mull thou thy heart. 

All worldly thoughts are but theeves met together 
To couzin thee. Look to thy actions well: 
For churches are either our heav'n or hell. 

Judge not the preacher; for he is thy Judge : 
If thou miflike him, thou conceiv'il him not. 
God calleth preaching folly. Do not grudge 
To pick out treafures from an earthen pot. 

The worflfpeakfomething good: if all want fenfe, 
God takes a text, and preacheth patience. 

He that gets patience, and the bleffing which 
Preachers conclude with, hath not loft his pains. 
He that by being at church efcapes the ditch, 
Which he might fall in by companions, gains. 
He that loves Gods abode, and to combine 
With iaints on earth, fhall one day with them mine. 

Jefl not at preachers language, or expreflion: 
How know'ft thou,but thy finnes made him mifcarrie? 
Then turn thy faults and his into confeffion: 
God fent him, whatfoe're he be : O tarry, 
And love him for his Mailer : his condition, 
Though it be ill makes him no ill Phyfician. 



The Church-porch. 

None fhall in hell fuch bitter pangs endure, 
As thofe who mock at Gods way of falvation. 
Whom oil and baliames kill, what salve can cure ? 
They drink with greedinefTe a full damnation. 

The Jews refufed thunder ; and we, folly. 

Though God do hedge us in, yet who is holy ? 

Summe up at night, what thou hast done by day; 

And in the morning, what thou haft to do. 

DrefTe and undrefle thy foul : mark the decay 

And growth of it : if with thy watch, that too 
Be down, then winde up both, fince we fhall be 
Moll furely judg'd, make thy accounts agree.. 

In brief, acquit thee bravely; play the man. 

Look not on pleafures as they come, but go. 

Deferre not the leaftvertue: lifes poore fpan 

Make not an ell, by trifling in thy wo. 

If thou do ill; the joy fades, not the pains: 
If well; the pain doth fade, the joy remains. 




THoUjWhom the former precepts have 
Sprinkled and taught,how to behave 
Thy ielf in church; approach, and taile 
The churches myfticall repaft. 

A Void profanenefTe; come not here: 
Nothing but holy, pure, and cleare, 
Or that which groneth to be fo. 
May at his perill further go. 

* The 


the Church. 

The Altar. 

A broken Altar, Lord , thy fervant reares , 

Made of a heart , and cemented with teares : 

Whofe parts are as thy hand did frame; 

No workmans tool hath touched the fame, 

A H e a r t alone 

Is fuch a Hone, 

As nothing but 

Thy povv'r doth cut. 

Wherefore each part 

Of my hard heart 

Meets in this frame, 

To praife thy name. 

That if 1 chance to hold my peace ^ 

Thefe Hones to praife thee may not ceafe. 

O let thy bleiTed Sacrifice be mine, 

And fandtine this Altar to be thine. 



The Church. 19 

f The Sacrifice. 

OH all ye, who pafTe by, whofe eyes and minde 
To worldly things are fharp , but to me blinde ; 
To me, who took eyes that I might you finde: 

Was ever grief like mine? 

The Princes of my people make a head 
Againft their Maker: they do wifh me dead, 
Who cannot wifh, except I give them bread: 

Was ever grief like mine ? 

Without me each one, who doth now me brave, 
Had to this day been an Egyptian flave. 
They ufe that power againrt me, which I gave: 

Was ever grief like mine? 

Mine own Apoftle, who the bag did beare, 
Though he had all I had, did not forbeare 
To tell me alfo, and to put me there: 

Was ever grief, &c. 

For thirtie pence he did my death devife, 
Who at three hundred did the ointment prize, 
Not half fo fweet as my fweet facrirlce: 

Was ever grief, &c. 

Therefore my foul melts, and my hearts deare treafure 
Drops bloud (the onely beads) my words to meafure: 
O let this cuppaje, if it be thy pleafure: 

Was ever grief, &c. 

Thefe drops being temper'd with a finners tears, 
A Balfome are for both the Hemifpheres : 
Curing all wounds, but mine; all, but my fears: 
Was ever grief Sec. 


20 The Church. 

Yet my Difciples fleep : I cannot gain 

One houre of watching;but their drowfie brain 

Comforts not me, and doth my doctrine ftain : 

Was ever grief like mine? 

Arife, arife, they come. Look how they runne. 
Alas! what hafte they make to be undone ! 
How with their lanterns do they feek the funne ! 
Was ever grief, &c. 

With clubs and ftaves they feek me, as a thief, 
Who am the way of truth, the true relief; 
Moft true to thofe, who are my greateft grief: 
Was ever grief, &c. 

Judas, do ft thou betray me with a kiffe ? 
Canft thou finde hell about my lips? and miffe 
Of life, juft at the gates of life and bliffe ? 

Was ever grief, &c. 

See, they lay hold on me, not with the hands 
Of faith, but furie: yet at their commands 
I fuffer binding, who have loos'd their bands: 
Was ever grief, &c. 

All my Difciples flie; fear puts a barre 
Betwixt my friends and me. They leave the ftarre, 
That brought the wife men of the Eaft from farre. 
Was ever grief, &c. 

Then from one ruler to another bound 
They leade me ; urging, that it was not found 
What I taught: Comments would the text confound. 
Was ever grief, &c. 

The Prieft and rulers all falfe witneiTe feek 
'Gainft him,who feeks not life, but is the meek 
And readie Pafchal Lambe of this great week: 
Was ever grief, &c. 


The Church. 21 

Then they accufe me of great blafphemie, 
That I did thruft into the Deitie, 
Who never thought that any robberie : 

Was ever grief like mine? 

Some faid, that I the Temple to the floore 
In three dayes raz'd, and raifed as before. 
Why, he that built the world can do much more : 
Was ever grief, &c. 

Then they condemne me all with that fame breath, 
Which I do give them daily, unto death. 
Thus Adam my firfc breathing rendereth : 

Was ever grief, &c. 

They binde, and lead me unto Herod ; he 
Sends me to Pilate. This makes them agree; 
But yet their friendfhip is my enmitie: 

Was ever grief, &c. 

Herod and all his bands do let me light, 
Who teach all hands to warre, fingers to fight, 
And onely am the Lord of hofts and might: 

Was ever grief, &c. 

Herod in judgement fits while I do ftand; 
Examines me with a cenforious hand: 
I him obey, who all things elie command: 

Was ever grief, &c. 

The Jews accufe me with defpitefulnefTe; 
And vying malice with my gentleneife, 
Pick quarrels with their onely happineffe : 

Was ever grief, &c. 

I anfwer nothing, but with patience prove 
If ftonie hearts will melt with gentle love. 
But who does hawk at eagles with a dove ? 

Was ever grief,&c. 


22 The Church. 

My filence rather doth augment their crie; 
My dove doth back into my bofome flie, 
Becaufe the raging waters ftill are high: 

Was ever grief like mine? 

Heark how they crie aloud (till, Crucifie: 
It is not fit he live a day, they crie, 
Who cannot live lefle then eternally: 

Was ever grief, &c. 

Pilate a flranger holdeth off; but they, 
Mine own deare people, cry, Away, away, 
With noifes confufed frighting the day: 

Was ever grief, &c. 

Yet ftill they fhout, and crie, and flop their eares, 
Putting my life among their fmnes and fears, 
And therefore wifh my bloud on them and theirs; 
Was ever grief, &c. 

See how fpite cankers things. Thefe words aright 
Ufed, and wifhed, are the whole worlds light: 
But hony is their gall, brightnerTe their night: 
Was ever grief, &c. 

They choofe a murderer, and all agree 
In him to do themfelves a courtefie: 
For it was their own caufe who killed me : 

Was ever grief, &c. 

And a feditious murderer he was: 
But I the Prince of peace; peace that doth pafle 
All underflanding, more then heav'n doth glafle: 
Was ever grief, &c. 

Why, Cefar is their onely King, not I: 

He clave the flonie rock, when they were drie; 

But furely not their hearts, as I well trie: 

Was ever grief, &c. 


The Church. 23 

Ah! how they fcourge me! yet my tendernefle 
Doubles each lafh : and yet their bitterneffe 
Windes up my grief to a mvfterioufnefle. 

Was ever grief like mine ? 

They buffet me,and box me as they lift, 
Who grafp the earth and heaven with my fift, 
And never yet, whom I would punifh, mifs'd : 
Was ever grief, Sec. 

Behold, they (pit on me in fcornfull wife, 
Who by my fpittle gave the blinde man eies, 
Leaving his blindnefle to mine enemies : 

Was ever grief, Sec. 

My face they cover, though it be divine. 
As Mofes face was vailed, fo is mine, 
Left on their double-dark fouls either fhine : 
Was ever grief, Sec. 

Servants and abjects flout me; they are wittie : 
Now prophefie who ftri\es thee, is their dittie. 
So they in me denie themfelves all pitie : 

Was ever grief, Sec. 

And now I am deliver'd unto death, 

Which each one cals for fo with utmoft breatn, 

That he before me well nigh fuffereth: 

Was ever grief, &c. 

Weep not, deare friends,fmce I for both have wept 
When all my tears were bloud, the while you flept: 
Your tears for your own fortunes mould be kept: 
Was ever grief, &c. 

The fouldiers lead me to the common hall ; 
There they deride me, they abufe me all: 
Yet for twelve heav'nly legions I could call: 
Was ever grief , Sec. 


24 The Church. 

Then with a fcarlet robe they me aray; 
Which mews my bloud to be the onely way, 
And cordiall left to repair mans decay : 

Was ever grief like mine? 

Then on my head a crown of thorns I wear: 
For thefe are all the grapes Sion doth bear, 
Though I my vine planted and watred there : 
Was ever grief, &c. 

So fits the earths great curfe in Adams fall 
Upon my head : fo I remove it all 
From th' earth unto my brows,and bear the thrall : 
Was ever grief, &c. 

Then with the reed they gave to me before, 

They ftrike my head, the rock from whence all flore 

Of heav'nly blesfings ifTue evermore: 

Was ever grief, &c. 

They bow their knees to me, and cry, Hail \ing: 
What ever fcoffes or fcornfulneffe can bring, 
I am the floore, the fink, where they it fling: 
Was ever grief , &c. 

Yet fince mans fcepters are as frail as reeds, 
And thorny all their crowns, bloudie their weeds; 
I, who am Truth,turn into truth their deeds: 
Was ever grief, &c. 

The fouldiers alfo fpit upon thacface, 
Which Angels did defire to have the grace, 
And Prophets once to fee, but found no place : 
Was ever grief, &c. 

Thus trimmed forth they bring me to the rout, 
Who Crucifie bim, crie with one ftrong fhout. 
God holds his peace at man, and man cries out: 
Was ever grief, &c. 


The Church. 25 

They leade me in once more,and putting then 
Mine own clothes on, they leade me out agen. 
Whom devils flie,thus is he tofs'd of men: 

Was ever grief like mine? 

And now wearie of fport, glad to ingrofle 
All fpite in one,counting my life their lofle, 
They carrie me to my moll bitter croue : 

Was ever grief, &c» 

My crofTe I bear my felf , untill I faint : 
Then Simon bears it for me by conflraint, 
The decreed burden of each mortall Saint : 
Was ever grief, &c. 

O all ye who pajfe by, behold and fee ; 

Man Hole the fruit,but I mull climbe the tree; 

The tree of life to all, but onely me : 

Was ever grief, &c. 

Lo, here I hang, charg'd with a world of finne, 
The greater world o'th' two; for that came in 
By words, but this by forrow I mufl win : 
Was ever grief, &c. 

Such forrow, as if fmfull man could feel, 
Or feel his part,he would not ceafe to kneel, 
Till all were melted, though he were all fleel: 
Was ever grief, &c. 

But, O my God, my God 7 why leav'fl thou me, 
The fonne, in whom thou dofl delight to be? 

My God, my God 

Never was grief like mine. 

Shame tears my foul, my bodie many a wound; 
Sharp nails pierce this, but fharper that confound; 
Reproches, which are free, while I am bound. 
Was ever grief, &c. 

B Now 

26 The Church. 

Now heal thy felf, Phyfician;now come down. 
Alas ! I did fo, when I left my crown 
And fathers fmile for you, to feel his frown: 

Was ever grief like mine? 

In healing not my felf, there doth confift 
All that falvation, which ye now refill ; 
Your fafetie in my ficknefTe doth fubfift: 

Was ever grief , &c. 

Betwixt two theeves I fpend my utmoft breath, 
Ashe that for fome robberie fuffereth. 
Alas! what have I ftollen from you? death: 
Was ever grief, &c* 

A king my title is, prefixt on high ; 
Yet by my fubjefts am condemn'd to die 
A fervile death in fervile companie: 

Was ever grief , &c. 

They gave me vineger mingled with gall, 
But more with malice : yet,when they did call, 
With Manna, Angels food, I fed them all: 

Was ever grief, &c. 

They part my garments, and by lot difpofe 

My coat, the type of love, which once cur'd thofe 

Who fought for help, never malicious foes: 

Was ever grief, &c. 

Nay,after death their fpite mall further go; 
For they will pierce my fide, I full well know ; 
That as fmne came, fo Sacraments might flow: 
Was ever grief, &c. 

But now I die ; now all is finimed. 

My wo, mans weal: and now I bow my head. 

Onely let others fay, when I am dead, 

Never was grief like mine. 

The Church. 27 

^[ The Thankfgiving. 

OH King of grief ! (a title ftrange, yet true, 
To thee of all kings onely due ) 
Oh King of wounds ! how ihall I grieve for thee, 

Who in all grief preventer!: me ? 
Shall I weep bloud? why thou hall wept fuch ftore 

That all thy body was one doore. 
Shall I be fcourged, flouted, boxed, fold ? 

'Tis but to tell the tale is told. 
My God, my God, why do ft thou part from me? 

Was fuch a grief as cannot be. 
Shall I then fing, skipping, thy dolefull ftorie, 

And fide with thy triumphant glorie? 
Shall thy ftrokes be my ftroking ? thorns, my flower ? 

Thy rod, my poller 5 crolTe, my bower? 
But how then fhall I imitate thee, and 

Copie thy fair, though bloudie handr 1 
Surely I will reuenge me on thy love, 

And trie who fhall victorious prove. 
If thou doft give me wealth; I will reftore 

All back unto thee by the poore. 
If thou doft give me honour; men fhall fee, 

The honour doth belong to thee. 
I will not marry; or, if me be mine, 

She and her children fhall be thine. 
My bofome friend, if he blafpheme thy name, 

I will tear thence his love and fame. 
One half of me being gone, the reft I give 

Unto fome Chappell, die or live. 
As for thy paflion ---But of that anon, 

When with the other I have done. 
For thy predeftination Pie contrive, 

That three veares hence, if I furvive, 

B 2 Pic 

28 7 he Church. 

Pie build a fpittle, or mend common waves, 

But mend mine own without delayes. 
Then I will ufe the works of thy creation, 

As if I us'd them but for fafhion. 
The world and I will quarrell; and the yeare 

Shall not perceive, that I am here. 
My mufick mail iinde thee, and ev'ry firing 

Shall have his attribute to fmg; 
That all together may accord in thee, 

And prove one God, one harmonic 
If thou malt give me wit, it mall appeare, 

If thou haft giv'n it me, 'tis here. 
Nay, I will reade thy book, and never move 

Till I have found therein thy love; 
Thy art of love, which I'le turn back on thee, 

O my deare Saviour, Vidlorie! 
Then for thy paffion-— I will do for that— 

Alas, my God, I know not what. 

f The Reprifall. 

J Have conflder'd it, and iinde 
There is no dealing with thy mighty paiTion : 
For though I die for thee, I am behinde; 

My finnes deferve the condemnation. 

O make me innocent, that I 
May give a difentangled ftate and free : 
And yet thy wounds ftill my attempts defie, 

For by thy death I die for thee. 

Ah! was it not enough that thou 
By thy eternall glorie didft outgo me? 
Couldft thou not griefs fad conquefts me allow, 

But in all vicVries overthrow me f 


The Church. 29 

Yet by confefTion will I come 
Into the conqueft. Though I can do nought 
Againit. thee, in thee will I overcome 

The man, who once againft thee fought. 


The Agonie 


pHilofophers have meafur'd mountains, 
Fathom'd the depths of feas, of Hates, and kings, 
Walk'd with a flaffe to heav'n,and traced fountains: 

But there are two vaft, fpacious things, 
The which to meafure it doth more behove: 
Yet few there are that found them; Sinne and Love 

Who would know Sinne, let him repair 
Unto mount Olivet; there mall he fee 
A man fo wrung with pains, that all his hair, 

His skinne, his garments bloudie be. 
Sinne is that preffe and vice, which forceth pain 
To hunt his cruell food through ev'ry vein. 

Who knows not Love, let him aflay 
And tafte that juice, which on the croffe a pike 
Did fet again abroach, then let him fay 

If ever he did tafte the like. 
Love is that liquor fweet and moil divine, 
Which my God feels as bloud; but I, as wine. 

B 3 % The 

30 The Church. 

^[ The Sinner. 

LOrd, how I am all ague, when I feek 
"What I have treafur'd in my memone! 
Since, if my foul make even with the week, 

Each feventh note by right is due to thee. 

I iinde there quarries of pil'd vanities, 

But fhreds of holinefTe, that dare not venture 
To ihew their face.fmce crofTeto thy decrees: 

There the circumference earth is, heav'n the centre. 

In fo much dregs the quinteffence is fmall: 

The fpirit and good extract of my heart 
Comes to about the many hundredth part. 

Yet Lord reftore thine image, heare my call : (grone, 
And though my hard heart fcarce to thee can 
Remember that thou once didft write in flone. 

^[ Good Friday. 


1 My chief good, 
How fhall I meafure out thy bloud? 
How fhall I count what thee befell, 
And each grief tell? 

Shall I thy woes 
Number according to thy foes? 
Or, fince one ftarre fhow'd thv firit breath, 

Shall all thy death? 

Or fhall each leaf, 
Which falls in Autumne, fcore agnsf? 
Or cannot leaves, but fruit, be figne 

Of the true vine? 


The Church. 31 

Then let each houre 
Of my whole life one grief devoured 
That thy diftrefie through all may runne, 

And be my funne. 

Or rather let 
My feverall finnes their forrows get; 
That as each beafthis cure doth know, 

Each finne may fo. 

Since bloud is fitteft, Lord,to write 
Thy forrows in, and bloudie fight; 
My heart hath ftore, write there, where in 
One box doth lie both ink and finne : 

That when finne fpies fo many foes . 
Thy whips, thy nails, thy wounds, thy woes 
All come to lodge there, finne may fay, 
No room for me> and flie away. 

Sinne being gone, oh fill the place, 
And keep poffeffion with thy grace; 
Left finne take courage and return, 
And all the writings blot or burn. 

^| Redemption. 

HAving been tenant long to a rich Lord, 
Not thriving, I refolved to be bold, 
And make a fuit unto him, to afford 
A new fmall-rented leafe, and cancell th' old 

In heaven at his manour I him fought: 

They told me there, that he was lately gone 
About fome land, which he had dearly bough! 

Long fince on earth, to take pofleflion. 

B 4 I 

32 The Church. 

I ftraight return'd, and knowing his great birth, 

Sought him accordingly in great reforts; 
Incities,theatres,gardens, parks, and courts: 

At length I heard a ragged noife and mirth 

Of theeves and murderers: there I him efpied 
Who fa*\^x.¥our j'uit is grantsdfa&fc died. 

^[ Sepulchre. 

OBlefTed bodie! Whither art thou thrown? 
No lodging for thee, but a cold hard Hone? 
So many hearts on earth, and yet not one 
Receive thee? 

Sure there is room within our hearts good ftore; 
For they can lodge tranfgreiTions by the fcore : 
Thoufands of toyes dwell there, yet out of doore 
They leave thee. 

But that which fhews them large, fhews them unfit* 
What ever fmne did this pure rock commit, 
Which holds thee now/' Who hath indited it 

Of murder? 

Where our hard hearts have took up ftones to brain 
And miffing this, moll falfly did arraigne thee; 
Onely thefe ftones in quiet entertain thee, 

And order. 

And as of old, the law by heav'nly art 
Was writ in ftone ; fo thou, which alfo art 
The letter of the word, find' ft no fit heart 
To hold thee. 

Yet do we ftill perfift as we began, 
And fo mould perifh, but that nothing can, 
Though it be cold, hard, foul, from loving man 
Withold thee. 

The Church . 33 

f Eafter. 

Rife heart; thy Lord is rifen. Sing his praife 
Without delayes, 
Who takes thee by the hand , that thou likewife 

With him mayfl rife : 
That, as his death calcined thee to dull, 
His life may make thee gold, and much more jufl. 

Awake, my lute, and ilruggle for thy part 

With all thy art. 

The crofle taught all wood to refound his name, 

Who bore the fame. 

His ftreched finews taught all firings, what key 

Is beft to celebrate this moft high day. 

Confort both heart & lute, and twill a fong 

Pleafant and long: 

Or fince all mufick is but three parts vied 

And multiplied ; 

let thy blelfed Spirit bear a part , 

And make up our defects with his fweet art. 

1 got me flowers to draw thy way; 
I got me boughs ofFmany a tree: 
But thou wall up by break of day, 

And brought'll thy fweets along with thee. 

The Sunne arifmg in the Eall, 
Though he give light, & th' Eall perfume ; 
If they Ihould offer to contell 
With thy arifing, they prefume. 

Can there be any day but this, 
Though many funnes to fhine endeavour? 
We count three hundred, but we mifle : 
There is but one, and that one ever. 

B 5 Ealler 

34 *fhe Church. 

f Eafter wings. 

G-» O ^ — He o <. 

— oq ^ ^ tr » B H « 

-^ B „ S ^» 

g g. g. cP 3o-^S 

S-^ § ° 3 o » 

« S. ^ g * 5' 

8- ? S> S- * 

S* ST 1 M 




The Church 35 

^f Eafter wings. 





t- 1 


3 s 







0- s 


~ *c 





3- ctq 

a- 3 




2f 5 

8 1 







^ OQ 



O |— 

en ^4 

S - 



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3 5-" 



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H. Ba- 

36 The Chunk. 

f H. Baptifme. 

AS he that fees a dark and fhadie grove, 
Staves not, but looks beyond it on the skie; 
So when I view my finnes, mine eyes remove 
More backward ftill, and to that water flie, 

Which is above the heav'ns, whofe fpring and rent 
Is my deare Redeemers pierced fide. 
O bleffed flreams/ either ye do prevent 

And flop our finnes from growing thick and wide, 

Or elfe give tears to drown them, as they grow. 
In you Redemption meafures all my time, 
And fpreads the plaifter equall to the crime: 

You taught the book of life my name, that fo 

What ever future finnes mould me mifcall, 
Your firft acquaintance might difcredit all. 

f H. Baptifme. 

Olnce , Lord, to thee 
A narrow way and little gate 
Is all the paffage, on my infancie 

Thou didft lay hold, and antedate 
My faith in me. 

O let me ftill 
Write thee great God , and me a childe: 
Let me be foft and fupple to thy will, 

Small to my felf, to others milde, 
Behither ill. 

Although by Health 
My flefh get on, yet let her fifter 
My foul bid nothing, but preferve her wealth: 
The growth of flefh is but a blifter; 
Childhood is health. 

The Church. 37 

f Nature. 

FUll of rebellion, I would die, 
Or fight, or travell, or denie 
That thou haft ought to do with me. 

O tame my heart; 
It is thyhigheftart 
To captivate ftrong holds to thee. 

If thou fhalt let this venome lurk, 
And in fuggeftions fume and work, 
My foul will turn to bubbles ftraight, 

And thence by kinde 
Vanifh into a winde, 
Making thy workmanfhip deceit, 

O fmooth my rugged heart,and there 
Engrave thy rev'rend law and fear ; 
Or make a new one, fince the old 

Is fapleffe grown, 
And a much fitter ftone 
To hide my dull, then thee to hold. 

^[ Sinne. 

LOrd , with what care haft thou begirt us round / 
Parents firft feafon us : then fchoolmafters 
Deliver us to laws; they fend us bound 
To rules of reafon, holy meffengers, 

Pulpits and fundayes, forrow dogging finne, 
Afflictions forted, anguifh of all fizes, 
Fine nets and ftratagems to catch us in, 

Bibles laid open, millions of furprifes, 



The Church. 

BlefTings beforehand, tyes of gratefulnefle, 
The found of glorie ringing in our eares. 
Without,our fhame; within,our conferences; 

Angels and grace, eternall hopes and fears. 

Yet all thefe fences and their whole aray 
One cunning bofome-finne blows quite away. 

f Affii&ion. 

"1X7 Hen firft thou didft entice to thee my heart, 

I thought the fervice brave: 

So many joyes I writ down for my part, 

Befides what I might have 

Out of my flock of naturall delights, 

Augmented with thy gracious benefits. 

I looked on thy furniture fo fine, 

And made it fine to me: 

Thy glorious houfhold-ftufFe did me entwine, 
And 'tice me unto thee. 

Such ftarres I counted mine : both heav'n and earth 

Payd me my wages in a world of mirth. 

What pleafures could I want,whofe King I ferved/* 
Where joyes my fellows were. 

Thus argu'd into hopes, my thoughts referved 

No place for grief or fear. 

Therefore my fudden foul caught at the place, 

And made her youth and fiercenefTe feek thy face. 

At firft thou gaVft me milk and fweetnefTes; 

I had my wifh and way: 
My dayes were ftraw'd with flow'rs and happinefle; 

There was no moneth but May. 
But with my yeares forrow did twift and grow, 
And made a partie unawares for wo. My 

The Church. . 39 

My flefh began unto my foul in pain, 

SicknefTes cleave my bones ; 

Confuming agues dwell in ev'ry vein, 

And tune my breath togrones. 

Sorrow was all my foul ; I fcarce beleeved, 

Till grief did tell me roundly, that I lived. 

When I got health,thou took' ft away my life, 

And more; for my friends die: 

My mirth and edge was loft; a blunted knife 
Was of more ufe then I. 

Thus thinne and lean without a fence or friend, 

I was blown through with ev'ry ftorm and winde. 

Whereas my birth and fpirit rather took 

The way that takes the town; 

Thou didft betray me to a lingring book, 

And wrap me in a gown. 

I was entangled in the world of ftrife, 

Before I had the power to change my life. 

Yet, for I threatned oft the fiege to raife, 

Not fimpring all mine age, 

Thou often didft with Academick praife 

Melt and diffolve my rage. 

I took thy fweetned pill, till I came neare; 

I could not go away, nor perfevere. 

Yet left perchance I mould too happie be 
In my unhappineffe, 

Turning my purge to food, thou throweft me 
Into more ficknefTes. 

Thus doth my power crofle-bias me,not making 

Thine own gift good, yet me from my wayes taking. 


4-0 The Church. 

Now I am here, what thou wilt do with me 

None of my books will fhow 

I reade, and figh, and wifh I were a tree; 

For fure then I mould grow 

To fruit or made : at leaft fome bird would truft 

Her houmold to me, and I mould be juft. 

Yet,though thou troubled: me, I muft be meek ; 

In weakneffe muft be flout. 
Well, I will charge the fervice,and go feek 

Some other mafter out. 
Ah my deare God! though I am clean forgot, 
Let me not love thee, if I love thee not. 

^[ Repentance. 

LOrd, I confefTe my finne is great ; 
Great is my finne. Oh! gently treat 
With thy quick flow'r, thy momentanie bloom; 
Whofe life ftill prefling 
Is one undreffing, 
A fteadie aiming at a tombe. 

Mans age is two houres work, or three: 
Each day doth round about us fee. 
Thus are we to delights : but we are all 

To forrows old, 

If life be told 
From what life feeleth, Adams fall. 

O let thy height of mercie then 
Companionate fhort-breathed men. 
Cut me not off for my moft foul transgreflion : 
I do confefTe 
My foolifhnefTe; 
My God,accept of my confefhon. 


The Church. 41 

Sweeten at length this bitter bowl, 
Which thou haft pour'd into my foul; (ther* 

Thy wormwood turn to health, windes to fair wea- 
For if thou ftay, 
I and this day, 
As we did rife, we die together. 

When thou for finne rebukeft man, 
Forthwith he waxeth wo and wan: 
BitternefTe fills our bowels ; all our hearts 
Pine, and decay, 
And drop away, 
And carrie with them th' other parts. 

But thou wilt finne and grief deftroy; 

That fo the broken bones may joy, 
And tune together in a well-fet fong, 
Full of his praifes, 
Who dead men raifes, 

Fractures well cur'd make us more ftrong. 

f Faith. 

-L'Ord, how couldft thou fo much appeafe 
Thy wrath for finne, as when mans fight was dimme, 
And could fee little, to regard his eafe, 

And bring by Faith all things to him ? 

Hungrie I was, and had no meat: 
I did conceit a moft delicious feaft; 
I had it ftraight, and did as truly eat, 

As ever did a welcome gueft. 

There is a rare outlandifh root, 
Which when I could not get, I thought it here: 
That apprehenfion cur'd fo well my foot, 

That I can walk to heav'n well neare. I 

42 The Church. 

I owed thoufands and much more. 
I did beleeve that I did nothing owe, 
And liv'd accordingly; my creditor 

Beleeves fo too, and lets me go. 

Faith makes me any thing, or all 
That I beleeve is in the facred ftorie: 
And where finne placeth me in Adams fall, 

Faith fets me higher in his glorie. 

If I go lower in the book, 
What can be lower then the common manger? 
Faith puts me there with him, who fweetly took 

Our flefh and frailtie, death and danger. 

If blifTe had lien in art or ftrength, 
None but the wife or ftrong had gained it: 
Where now by Faith all arms are of a length; 

One fize doth all conditions fit. 

A peafant may beleeve as much 
As a great Clerk, and reach the higheft flature. 
Thus dolt thou make proud knowledge bend & crouch 

While grace fills up uneven nature. 

When creatures had no reall light 
Inherent in them, thou didft make the funne, 
Impute a luflre, and allow them bright; 

And in this fhew, what Chriit hath done. 

That which before was darkned clean 
With bufhie groves, pricking the lookers eie, 
Vanifht away, when Faith did change the fcene: 

ApA then appear'd a glorious skie. 

What though my bodie runne to dull? 
Faith cleaves unto it, counting evr'y grain 
With an exact and moll particular trull, 

Referring all for flefh again. 

f Prayer. 

The Church, 43 

^[ Prayer. 

P Raver the Churches banquet, Angels age, 
Gods breath in man returning to his birth, 
The foul in paraphrafe, heart in pilgrimage, 
The Chriftian plummet founding heav'n and earth; 

Engine againft th' Almightie, Tinners towre, 

Reverfed thunder, Chrift-fide-piercing fpear, 
The fix-daies world-tranfpoiing in an houre, 

A kind of tune, which all things heare and fear; 

SoftnefTe, and peace, and joy, and love, and blifTe, 
Exalted Manna, gladnefle of the beft, 
Heaven in ordinarie, man well dreft, 

The milkie way, the bird of Paradife, 

Church-bels beyond the ftarres heard,the fouls 
The land of fpices; fomething underftood. 

^[ The H. Communion. 

NOt in rich furniture, or fine aray, 
Nor in a wedge of gold, 
Thou, who from me wait fold, 
To me doft now thy felf convey; 
For fo thou mould'!! without me Hill have been, 
Leaving within mefmne : 

But by the way of nourishment and ftrengh 
Thou creep'fl into my breafl; 
Making thy way my reit, 
And thy fmall quantities my length; 
Which fpread their forces into every part, 
Meeting finnes force and art. 


44 *£be Church. 

Yet can thefe not get over to my foul, 

Leaping the wall that parts 

Our fouls and flefhly hearts; 
But as th' outworks, they may controll 
My rebel-flefh, and carrying thy name, 

Affright both finne and fhame. 

Onely thy grace, which with thefe elements comes, 

Knoweth the ready way, 

And hath the privie key, 
Op'ning the fouls moft fubtile rooms; 
While thofe to fpirits refin'd, at doore attend 

Difpatches from their friend. 

Give me my captive foul , or take 

My bodie alfo thither. 
Another lift like this will make 

Them both to be together. 

Before that finne turn'd flefh to ftone, 
And all our lump to leaven ; 

A fervent figh might well have blown 
Our innocent earth to heaven. 

For fure when Adam did not know 
To finne, or finne to fmother; 

He might to heav'n from Paradife go, 
As from one room t'another. 

Thou haft reftor'd us to this eafe 
By this thy heav'nly bloud ; 

Which I can go to, when I pleafe, 

And leave th* earth to their food. 

% Antiphon* 

The Church. 45 

f Antiphon. 

Cbo. T Etall the world in ev'ry corner fing 
*** My God and King. 

Vers. The heav'ns are not too high, 
His praife may thither flie: 
The earth is not too low , 
His praifes there may grow. 

Cbo. Let all the world in ev'ry corner fing, 
My God and King. 

Vers. The church with pfalms muft fhout 
No doore can keep them out: 
But above all, the heart 
Muft bear the longeft part. 

Cbo. Let all the world in ev'ry corner fing, 
My God and King. 

f Love I. 

IMmortall Love,authour of this great frame, 
Sprung from that beautie which can never fade ; 
How hath that man parcel'd out thygloriousname, 
And thrown it on that duft which thou haft made, 

While mortall love doth all the title gain ! 

Which Tiding with invention, they together 
Bear all the fway , porTefling heart and brain, 

(Thy workmanfhip) and give thee fhare in neither. 



Ihe Church. 

Wit fancies beautie, beautie raifeth wit : 

The world is theirs ;they two play out the game, 
Thou Handing by: and though thy glorious name 

Wrought our deliverance from the infernall pit, 

Who fings thy praife?onely a skarf or glove (love. 
Dcth warm our hands, and make them write of 


IMmortall Heat, O let thy greater flame 
Attract the leffer to it: let thofe fires, 
Which fhall confume the world,firft make it tame; 
And kindle in our hearts fuch true defires, 

As may confume our lufts , and make thee way. 

Then fhall our hearts pant thee ;then fhall our brain 

All her invention on thine Altar lay, 
And there in hymnes fend back thy fire again: 

Our eies fhall fee thee, which before faw duft ; 
Duft blown by wit, till that they both were blinde: 
Thou fhalt recover all thy goods in kinde, 

Who wert deffeized by ufurping luft : 

All knees fhall bow to thee; all wits fhall rife, 
And praife him who did make and mend our eies. 


^] The Temper. 

Ow fhould I praife thee , Lord! how fhouldmy 
Gladly engrave thy love in fteel, (rymes 

If what my foul doth feel fometimes, 
My foul might ever feel! 


The Church. 47 

Although there were fome fourtie heav'ns,or more, 
Sometimes I peere above them all; 
Sometimes I hardly reach a fcore, 
Sometimes to hell I fall. 

O rack me not to fuch a vaft extent ; 
Thofe diftances belong to thee : 
The world's too little for thy tent, 
A grave too big for me. 

Wilt thou meet arms with man, that thou doft ftretch 
A crumme of duft from heav'n to hell? 
Will great God meafure with a wretch? 
Shall he thy ftature fpell ? 

O let me, when thy roof my foul hath hid, 
O let me roofland nettle there: 
Then of a finner thou art rid, 
And I of hope and fear. 

Yet take thy way ; for fure thy way is beft: 
Stretch or contract me thy poore debter : 
This is but tuning of my breaft, 
To make the mufick better. 

Whether I flie with angels, fall with duft, 
Thy hands made both.and I am there: 
Thy power and love, my love and trull 
Make one place ev'ry where. 

^[ The Temper. 

IT cannot be. Where is that mightie joy, 
Which juft now took up all my heart? 
Lord, if thou muft needs ufe thy dart, 
Save that , and me; or fin for both deftroy. 


4 8 

The Church. 

The grofscr world Hands to thy word and art ; 
But thy diviner world of grace 
Thou iuddenlv doll raife and race, 

And ev'ry day a new Creatour art. 

O fix thy chair of grace, that all my powers 
May alfo fix their reverence: 
For when thou doft depart from hence, 

They grow unruly, and fit in thy bowers. 

Scatter, or binde them all to bend to thee : 

Though elements change, and heaven move, 
Let not thy higher Court remove, 

But keep a Handing Majeftie in me. 

^[ Jordan. 

WHo fayes that fictions onely and falfe hair 
Become a verfe? Is there in truth no beautie? 
Is all good ftrudture in a winding Hair? 
May no lines pafle, except they do their dutie 
Not to a true, but painted chair? 

Is it no verfe, except enchanted groves 
And fudden arbours fhadow courfe-ipunne lines? 
Muft purling dreams refrelh a lovers loves? 
Mull all be vaiPd, while he that reades, divines, 
Catching the fenfe at two removes? 

Shepherds are honeft people ; let them fing: 
Riddle who lift, for me, and pull for Prime: 
I envie no mans nightingale or fpring; 
Nor let them punifh me with lofle of ryme, 
Who plainly fay, My God, My King. 

^[ Employ- 

The Church. 49 

^[ Employment. 

IF as a flowre doth fpread and die, 
Thou wouldft extend me to fome good, 
Before I were by frofts extremitie 

Nipt in the bud; 

The fweetnelTe and the praife were thine; 
But the extenfion and the room, 
Which in thy garland I mould fill, were mine 
At thy great doom. 

For as thou doft impart thy grace, 
The greater fhall our glorie be. 
The meafure of our joyes is in this place, 

The flufFe with thee. 

Let me not languifh then, and fpend 
A life as barren to thy praife, 
As is the duft, to which that life doth tend, 
But with delaies. 

All things are bufie; onely I 
Neither bring hony with the bees, 
Nor flowres to make that, nor the husbandrie 
To water thefe. 

I am no link of thy great chain, 
But all my companie is a weed. 
Lord place me in thy confort;give one ftrain 
To my poorereed. 

% The 

50 The Church. 

f[ The H. Scriptures. I. 

OH Book! infinite fweetnefle! let my heart 
Suck ev'ry letter, and a hony gain, 
Precious for any grief in any part; 
To cleare the breaft, to mollifie all pain. 

Thou art all health, health thriving, till it make 
A full eternitie: thou art a marie 
Of ftrange delights,where we may wifh & take. 

Ladies, look here ; this is the thankfull glafse, 

That mends the lookers eyes: this is the well 

That wafhes what it fhows. Who can indeare 
Thy praife too much? thou art heav'ns Lidger 

Working againft the ftates of death and hell. ( here, 

Thou art joyes handfell rheav'n lies flat in thee, 
Subject to ev'ry mounters bended knee. 


OH that I knew how all thy lights combine, 
And the configurations of their glorie! 
Seeing not onely how each verfe doth mine, 
But all the conftellations of the ftorie. 

This verfe marks that, and both do make a motion 
Unto a third, that ten leaves ofFdoth lie : 
Then as difperfed herbs do watch a potion, 

Thefe three make up fome Chriftians deflinie: 


The Church. 51 

Such are thy fecrets, which my life makes good, 
And comments on thee : for in ev'ry thing 
Thy words do finde me out, & parallels bring, 

And in another make me underftood. 

Starres are poore books,& oftentimes do mifse : 
This book of ftarres lights to eternall blifse. 

f Whitfunday, 

LIften fweet Dove unto my fong, 
And fpread thy golden wings in me; 
Hatching my tender heart fo long, 
Till it get wing, and flie away with thee. 

Where is that fire which once defcended 
On thy Apoftlesr 3 thou didft then 
Keep open houfe , richly attended, 
Feafting all comers by twelve chofen men. 

Such glorious gifts thou didft be flow, 
That th' earth did like a heav'n appeare; 
The ftarres were coming down to know 
If they might mend their wages, and ferve here. 

The funne which once did fhine alone, 
Hung down his head, and wifht for night, 
When he beheld twelve funnes for one 
Going about the world, and giving light. 

But fince thofe pipes of gold, which brought 
That cordiall water to our ground, 
Were cut and martyr'd by the fault 
Ofthofe,who did themfelves through their fide wound 

C 2 Thou 

52 The Church. 

Thou fhutt'ft the doore,and keep'ft within; 
Scarce a good joy creeps through the chink: 
And if the braves of conqu'ring iinne 
Did not excite thee, we fhould wholly link. 

Lordjthough we change,thou art the fame ; 
The fame fweet God of love and light: 
Reftore this day, for thy great name, 
Unto his ancient and miraculous right. 

^[ Grace. 

MY flock lies dead and, no increafe 
Doth my dull husbandrie improve: 
O let thy graces without ceafe 

Drop from above! 

If ftill the funne mould hide his face, 
Thy houfe would but a dungeon prove, 
Thy works nights captives : O let grace 
Drop from above! 

The dew doth ev'ry morning fall ; 
And fhall the dew outftrip thy dove? 
The dew,for which graffe cannot call, 
Drop from above. 

Death is ftill working like a mole, 
And digs my grave at each remove: 
Let grace work too, and on my foul 

Drop from above. 

Sinne is ftill hammering my heart 
Unto a hardnefTe, void of love: 
Let fuppling grace, to crofl'e his heart, 
Drop from above. 

The Church. 53 

come! for thou doll know the way. 
Or if to me thou wilt not move, 
Remove me, where I need not fay, 

'Drop from above. 

f Praife. 

HpO write a verfe or two,is all the praife, 

A That I can raife: 

Mend my eflate in any wayes, 

Thou malt have more. 

1 go to Church; help me to wings, and I 

Will thither flie; 

Or,if I mount unto the skie, 
I will do more. 

Man is all weaknefle; there is no fuch thing 
As Prince or King : 
His arm is ftiort; yet with a fling 
He may do more. 

An herb deftiird,and drunk,may dwell next doore, 
On the fame floore, 
To a brave foul: Exalt the poore, 
They can do more. 

O raife me then! poore bees, that work all day, 
Sting my delay, 
Who have a work, as well as they, 
And much,much more. 

f Afflidion. 

iVlll me not ev*ry day, 
Thou Lord of life; fmce thy one death for me 
Is more then all my deaths can be, 

Though I in broken pay 
Die over each houre of Methufalems flay. 

C 3 if 

54 The Church. 

If all mens tears were let 
Into one common iewer , Tea, and brine; 

What were they all, compar'd to thine.' 

Wherein if they were fet, 
They would difcolour thy moll bloudy fweat. 

Thou art my grief alone, 
Thou Lord conceal it not: and as thou art 

All my delight, fo all my fmart: 

Thy crofle took up in one, 
Byway of impreft, all my future mone. 


f Mattens. 

Cannot ope mine eyes, 
But thou art ready there to catch 
My morning-foul and facrirlce : 
Then we mull needs for that day make a match. 

My God, what is a heart? 
Silver,or gold,or precious flone, 
Or flarre, or rainbow, or a part 
Of all thefe things or all of them in one? 

My God, what is a heart, 
That thou fhould'ft it fo eye, and wooe, 
Powringupon it all thy art, 
As if that thou hadft nothing els to do? 

Indeed man's whole eftate 
Amounts (and richly) to ferve thee: 
He did not heav'n and earth create, 
Yet fludies them,not him by whom they be. 

Teach me thy love to know ; 
That this new light, which now I fee, 
May both the work and workman fhow: 
Then by a funne-beam I will climbe to thee. 

1T Sinne 

The Church. 55 

f Sinne. 

OThat I could finne once lee! 
We paint the devil foul, yet he 
Hath fome good in him,all agree. 
Sinne is flat oppofitc to th' Almighty, feeing 
It wants the good of vertue, and of being. 

But God more care of us hath had: 

If apparitions make us fad , 

By fight of finne we ihould grow mad. 

Yet as in fleep we fee foul death, and live : 

So devils are our finnes in perfpedlive. 

^f Even-fong. 

X3Leftbethe God of love, 
Who gave me eyes,and light, and power this day, 
Both to be bufie , and to play. 
But much more bleft be God above, 

Who gave me fight alone, 
Which to himfelf he did denie: 
For when he fees my waies, I dy : 
But I have got his fonne, and he hath none. 

What have I brought thee home 
For this thy lover' have I difcharg'd the debt, 
Which this dayes favour did beget? 
I ranne; but all I brought, was fome. 

Thy diet, care,and coll 
Do end in bubbles, balls of winde; 
Of winde to thee whom I have croft, 
But balls of wilde-fire to mv troubled minde. 

C 4 Yet 


The Church. 

Yet ftill thou goc'R on, 
And now with darknefle clofeft wearie eyes, 

Saying to man,// dothfuffice : 
Henceforth repofe;your wor\ is done. 

Thus in thy Ebony box 
Thou doft inclofe us, till the day 
Put our amendment in our way, 
And give new wheels to our diforder'd clocks. 

I mufe, which mows more love, 
The day or night : that is the gale, this th'harbour; 
That is the walk, and this the arbour; 
Or that the garden, this the grove. 

My God, thou art all love. 
Not one poore minute fcapes thy breaft, 
But brings a favour from above; 
And in this love, more then in bed, I reft. 

^[ Church-monuments. 

WHile that my foul repairs to her devotion, 
Here I intombe my flefh, that it betimes 
May take acquaintance of this heap of duft; 
To which the blaft of deaths inceffant motion, 
Fed with the exhalation of our crimes, 
Drives all at laft. Therefore I gladly truft 

My bodie to this fchool, that it may learn 
To fpell his elements, and finde his birth 
Written in duftie heraldrie and lines; 
Which diffolution fure doth beft difcern, 
Comparing dull with duft, and earth with earth. 
Thefe laugh at Ieat, and Marble put for fignes, 


The Church. $j 

To fever the good fellowfhip of duft, 
And fpoil the meeting. What (hall point out them, 
When they mall bow, and kneel, and fall down flat 
To kifle thofe heaps, which now they have in truft? 
Deare flefh, while I do pray, learne here thy ftemme 
And true defcent; that when thou fhalt grow fat, 

And wanton in thy cravings, thou mayfl know, 
That flefh is but the glaffe, which holds the duft 
That meafures all our time; which alfo fhall 
Be crumpled into duft. Mark here below 
How tame thefe afhes are, how free from luft, 
That thou mayft fit thy felf againt thy fall. 

% Church-mufick. 

SWeeteft of fweets, I thank you: when difpleafure 
Did through mybodiewoundmyminde, 
You took me thence, and in your houfe of pleafure 
A daintie lodging me affign'd. 

Now I in you without a bodie move, 

Rifing and falling with your wings : 

We both together fweetly live and love, 

Yet fay fometimes, God help poor Kings. 

Comfort, 'He die; for if you pofte from me, 

Sure I fhall do fo, and much more: 

But if I travell in your companie, 

You know the way to heavens doore. 

% Church-lock and key. 

T Know it is my finne, which locks thine eares, 

And bindes thy hands; 
Out-crying my requefts, drowning my tears; 
Or elfe the chilnefTe of my faint demands 

C 5 But 

58 The Church. 

But as cold hands are angrie with the fire, 

And mend it (till; 
So I do lay the want of my deflre, 
Not on my finnes, or coldneffe, but thy will, 

Yet heare, O God, onely for his blouds fake 

Which pleads for me : 
For though finnes plead too,yet like ftones they make 
His blouds fweet current much more loud to be. 


^[ The Church-floore. 

Ark you the floorerthat fquare & f peckled ftone, 
Which looks fo firm and ftrong, 
Is Patience : 

And th'other black and grave, wherewith each one 
Is checker'd all along, 

Humilitie : 

The gentle riling, which on either hand 

Leads to the Quire above, 
Is Confidence : 

But the fweet cement , which in one fure band 
Ties the whole frame, is Love 
And Charitie . 

Hither fometimes Sinne fteals.and (taint 
The marbles neat and curious veins : 

But all is cleanfed when the marble weeps, 

Sometimes Death , puffing at the doore, 
Blows all the duft about the floore: 

But while he thinks to fpoil the room, he fweeps. 
Bleft be the Architect, whofe art 
Could build fo ftrone in a weak heart. 

T The 

T6e Church. 59 

Cf[ The Windows. 

LOrd, how can man preach thy eternall word ? 
He is a brittle crazie glafTe : 
Yet in thy temple thou doll him afford 

This glorious and tranfcendent place, 
To be a window, through thy grace. 

But when thou doll anneal in glafTe thy ftorie, 
Making thy life to fhine within 

The holy Preachers; then the light and glorie 

More rev'rend grows, 8c more doth win : 
Which elfe mows watrifh, bleak, 8c thin, 

Do6lrine and life, col ours and light, in one 

When they combine and mingle , bring 

A flrong regard and aw : but fpeech alone 

Doth vanifli like a flaring thing, 
And in the eare, not confcience ring. 

f Trinitie Sunday. 

LOrd, who haft form'd me out of mud, 
And haft redeem'd me through thy bloud, 
And fan&ifi'd me to do good ; 

Purge all my fmnes done heretofore: 
For I confeffe my heavie fcore, 
And I will ftrive to finne no more. 

Enrich my heart,mouth, hands in me , 
With faith, with hope, with charitie; 
That I may runne, rife, reft with thee. 

1" Con- 

60 The Church. 

f Content. 

PEacemutt'ringthoughts,and do not grudge to keep 
Within the walls of your own breaft: 
Who cannot on his own bed fweetly fleep, 
Can on anothers hardly reft. 

Gad not abroad at ev'ry queft and call 

Of an untrained hope or paffion. 

To count each place or fortune that doth fall, 
Is wantonneffe in contemplation. 

Mark how the fire in flints doth quiet lie, 

Content and warm t' it felf alone: 

But when it would appeare to others eye, 
Without a knock it never fhone. 

Give me the pliant minde, whofe gentle meafure 
Complies and fuits with all eilates ; 

Which can let loofe to a crown, and yet with pleafure 
Take up within a cloifters gates. 

This foul doth fpan the world, and hang content 
From either pole unto the centre : 

Where in each room of the well-furnifht tent 
He lies warm, and without adventure. 

The brags of life are but a nine dayes wonder; 

And after death the fumes that fpring 
From private bodies, make as big a thunder, 

As thofe which rife from a huge King. 

Onely thy Chronicle is loft; and yet 

Better by worms be all once fpent, 

Then have hellim moths ftill gnaw and fret 

Thy name in books, which may not rent: 


The Church. 6 \ 

When all thy deeds, whofe brunt thou feel'it. alone, 
Are chaw'd by others pens and tongue; 

And as their wit is, their digeftion, 

Thy nourifht fame is weak or ftrong. 

Then ceafe difcourfing foul, till thine own ground, 
Do not thy felf or friends importune. 

He that by feeking hath himfelf once found , 
Hath euer found a happie fortune. 

^ The Quidditie. 

MY God, a verfe is not a crown, 
No point of honour, or gay iuit, 
No hawk, or banquet, or renown, 
Nor a good fword, nor yet a lute : 

It cannot vault, or dance, or play; 
It never was in France or Spain ; 
Nor can it entertain the day 
With a great liable or demain: 

It is no office, art, or news, 
Nor the Exchange, or bufie Hall; 
But it is that which while I ufe 
I am with thee, and Moft ta\e all. 

^ Humilitie. 

I Saw the Vertueo fitting hand in hand 
In fev'rall ranks upon an azure throne, 
Where all the beafts and fowls by their command 
Prefented tokens of fubmiffion. 
Humilitie, who fat the loweft there 

To execute their call, 
When by the beafts the prefents tendred were, 

Gave them about to all. 


62 The Church. 

The angrie Lion did prefent his paw, 
Which by confent was giv'n to Manfuetude. 
The fearfull Hare her eares, which by the law 
Humilitie did reach to Fortitude. 
The jealous Turkie brought his corall-chain; 

That went to Temperance. 
On Juftice was beftow'd the Foxes brain, 

Kill'd in the way by chance. 

At length the Crow bringing the Peacocks plume, 

(For he would not) as they beheld his grace 

Of that brave gift, each one began to fume, 

And challenge it, as proper to his place, 

Till they fell out: which when the beafts efpied, 

They leapt upon the throne ; 
And if the Fox had liv'd to rule their fide, 

They had depos'd each one. 

Humilitie, who held the plume, at this 

Did weep fo fa ft, that the tears trickling down 

Spoil'd all the train : then faying, Here it is 

For which ye wrangle, made them turn their frown 

Againft the beafts: fo jointly bandying, 

They drive them foon away; 
And then amerc'd them, double gifts to bring 

At the next Semon-day. 

f Frailtie. 

LOrd, in my filence how do I defpifc 
What upon truft 
Is ftyled honour, riches, or fair eyes; 

But is fair duft ! 
I furname them guildedclay, 
T)eare earth, fine graffe or hay\ 
In all, I think my foot doth ever tread 
Upon their head. 

The Church. 63 

But when I view abroad both Regiments; 

The worlds,and thine: 
Thine clad with fimplenefle, and fad events; 
The other fine, 
Full of glorie and gay weeds, 
Brave language, braver deeds: 
That which was dull before, doth quickly rife, 
And prick mine eyes. 

O brook not this, left if what even now 
My foot did tread, 
Affront thofe joyes, wherewith thou didft endow, 
And long fince wed 
My poore foul, ev'n fick of love: 
It may a Babel prove 
Commodious to conquer heav'n and thee 
Planted in me. 

^[ Conftancie. 

W Ho is the honeft man? 
He that doth ftill and ftrongly good purfue, 
To God, his neighbour, and himfelf moil true: 

Whom neither force nor fawning can 
Unpinne, or wrench from giving all their due. 

Whofe honeftie is not 
So loofe or eafie, that a ruffling winde 
Can blow away, or glittering look it blinde: 

Who rides his fure and even trot, 
While the world now rides by, now lags behindc. 


64 The Church. 

Who, when great trials come, 
Nor feeks, nor fhunnes them; but doth calmly ilay, 
Till he the thing and the example weigh: 

All being brought into a fumme, 
What place or perfon calls for, he doth pay. 

Whom none can work or wooe 
To ufe in any thing a trick or Height, 
For above all things he abhorres deceit: 

His words and works and fafhion too 
All of a piece, and all are cleare and ftraight. 

Who never melts or thaws 
At clofe tentations : when the day is done, 
His goodnefle fets not, but in darke can runne: 

The funne to others writeth laws, 
And is their venue; Vertue is his Sunne. 

Who, when he is to treat 
With iick folks, women, thofe whom pafiions fway t 
Allows for that,and keeps his conftant way: 
Whom others faults do not defeat / 
But though men fail him, yet his part doth play. 

Whom nothing can procure, 
When the wide world runnes bias, from his will 
To writhe his limbes, and fhare, not mend the ill. 

This is the Mark-man, fafe and fure, 
Who ftill is right, and prayes to be fo Hill. 

f Affliction. 

MY heart did heave, and there came forth,0 God I 
By that I knew that thou waft in the grief, 
To guide and govern it to my relief, 
Making a fcepter of the rod: 
Hadft thou not had thy part, 
Sure the unruly figh had broke my heart. 

The Church. 65 

But fince thy breath gave me both life and fhape, 
Thou knowft my tallies; and when there's aflign'd 
So much breath to a figh, what's then behinde? 
Or if fome yeares with it efcape, 
The figh then onely is 
A gale to bring me fooner to my blifle. 

Thy life on earth was grief, and thou art dill 
Conftant unto it, making it to be 
A point of honour, now to grieve in me, 
And in thy members fuffer ill. 
They who lament one crofle, 
Thou dying dayly, praife thee to thy loile. 

4J The Starre. 

B Right fpark, mot from a brighter place, 
Where beams furround my Saviours face, 
Canft thou be anywhere 
So well as there ? 

Yet, if thou wilt from thence depart, 
Take a bad lodging in my heart; 

For thou canft make a debter, 
And make it better. 

Firft with thy fire-work burn to dull 
Folly, and worfe then folly, lull: 
Then with thy light refine, 
And make it fhine : 

So difengag'd from finne and ficknefTe, 
Touch it with thy celeftiall quicknefTe, 
That it may hang and move 
After thy love. 


66 The Church. 

Then with our trinitie of light, 

Motion, and heat, let's take our flight 
Unto the place where thou 
Before didft bow. 

Get me a Handing there, and place 

Among the beams, which crown the face 
Of him, who dy'd to part 
Sinne and my heart: 

That fo among the reft I may 

Glitter, and curie, and winde as they: 
That winding is their fafhion 
Of adoration. 

Sure thou wilt joy, by gaining me 
To flie home like a laden bee 
"Unto that hive of beams 
And garland-ftreams. 

f Sunday. 


Day moft calm, moft bright, 
The fruit of this, the next worlds bud, 
Th' indorfement of fupreme delight, 
Writ by a friend,and with his bloud; 
The couch of time; cares balm and bay: 
The week were dark, but for thy light: 
Thy torch doth mow the way. 


The Church. 67 

The other dayes and thou 
Make up one man; whofe face thou arc, 
Knocking at heaven with thy brow: 
The worky-daies are the back-part; 
The burden of the week lies there, 
Making the whole to ftoup and bow, 

Till thy releafe appeare. 

Man had ftraight forward gone 
To endleffe death: but thou doll pull 
And turn us round to look on one, 
Whom, if we were not very dull, 
We could not choofe but look on frill; 
Since there is no place fo alone, 

The which he doth not fill. 

Sundaies the pillars are, 
On which heav'ns palace arched lies: 
The other dayes fill up the fpare 
And hollow room with vanities. 
They are the fruitfull beds and borders 
In Gods rich garden*, that is bare, 

Which parts their ranks and orders. 

The Sundaies of mans life, 
Thredded together on times firing. 
Make bracelets to adorn the wife 
Of the eternall glorious King. 
On Sunday heavens gate ftands ope; 
Bleflings are plentifull and rife, 

More plentifull then hope. 


68 The Church. 

This day my Saviour rofe, 
And did inclofe this light for his : 
That, as each beaft his manger knows, 
Man might not of his fodder mifse. 
Chrift hath took in this piece of ground, 
And made a garden there for thofe 

Who want herbs for their wound. 

The reft of our Creation 
Our great Redeemer did remove 
With the fame fhake, which at his paflion 
Did th' earth and all things with it move. 
As Samfon bore the doores away, 
Chrifts hands, though nail'd, wrought our falvation, 

And did unhinge that day. 

The brightnefse of that day 
We fullied by our foul offence : 
Wherefore that robe we caft away, 
Having a new at his expence, 
Whofe drops of bloud paid the full price, 
That was requir'd to make us gay, 

And fit for Paradife. 

Thou art a day of mirth: 
And where the week-dayes trail on ground, 
Thy flight is higher, as thy birth. 
O let me take thee at the bound, 
Leaping with thee from fev'n to fev'n, 
Till that we both, being tofs'd from earth, 

Flie hand in hand to heav'n ! 

f Avarice. 

The Church. 69 

f Avarice. 

MOney,thou banc of blifle,& fourfe of wo, (fine? 
Whence com'ft thou,that thou are fo freih and 
I know thy parentage is bafe and low : 
Man found thee poore and dirtie in a mine. 

Surely thou didft fo little contribute 

To this great kingdome,which thou now haft got, 
That he was fain, when thou wert deftitute, 

To digge thee out of thy dark cave and grot: 

Then forcing thee, by lire he made thee bright: 
Nay,thou haft got the face of man; for we 
Have with our ftamp andfeal transferr'd our right: 

Thou art the man, and man but drofTe to thee. 

Man calleth thee his wealth, who made thee rich; 
And while he digs out thee, falls in the ditch. 


. f Ma ry 1 
Ana -\ Army J*" 4 * 

Ow well her name an Army doth prefent, 
In whom the Lord ofhojls did pitch his tent! 

^ To all Angels and Saints. 

OH glorious fpirits,who after all your bands 
See the fmooth face of God, without a frown 
Or ftricl commands: 
Where ev'ry one is king,and hath his crown, 
If not upon his head, yet in his hands: 


jo The Church. 

Not out of envie or malicioufnefle 
Do I forbear to crave your fpeciall aid: 

I would addreiTe 
My vows to thee moil gladly, bleiTed Maid, 
And Mother of my Godwin my diftrefTe. 

Thou art the holy mine,whence came the gold, 
The great reflorative for all decay 

In young and old; 
Thou art the cabinet where the Jewell lay: 
Chiefly to thee would I my foul unfold: 

But now (alas!) I dare not; for our King, 
Whom we do all joyntly adore and praife, 

Bids no fuch thing: 
And where his pleafure no injunction layes, 
( 'Tis your own cafe) ye never move a wing. 

All worfhip is prerogative, and a flower 
Of his rich crown,from whom lyes no appeal 

At the laft houre: 
Therefore we dare not from his garland ileal, 
To make a pofie for inferiour power. 

Although then others court you, if ye know 
What's done on earth, we mall not fare the worfe, 

Who do not fo ; 
Since we are ever ready to disburfe, 
If any one our Mailers hand can fhow. 

^ Employment. 

HE that is weary, let him fit. 
My foul would ilirre 
And trade in courtefies and wit, 

Quitting the furre 
To cold complexions needing it. Mil 

The C Lurch. 71 

Man is no ftarre, but a quick coal 
Of mortall fire: 

Who blows it not, nor doth controll 
A faint defire, 

Lets his own afhes choke his foul. 

When th* elements did for place conteft 
With him, whofe will 
Ordain'd the higheft to be bell; 

The earth fat ftill, 
And by the others is oppreft. 

Life is a bufmefte, not good cheer ; 

Ever in warres. 
The funne ftill ihineth there or here, 

Whereas the ftarres 
Watch an advantage to appearc. 

Oh that I were an Orenge-tree, 

That bufie plant! 

Then fhould I ever laden be , 

And never want 

Some fruit for him that drefled me. 

But we are ftill too young or old ; 

The man is gone, 
Before we do our wares unfold: 

So we freeze on, 
Untill the grave increafe our cold. 

f Deniall. 

T\fHen my devotions could not pierce 

Thy filent eares; 
Then was my heart broken, as was my verfe: 
My breaft was full of fears 

And diforder: My 

J 2 The Church. 

My bent thoughts, like a brittle bow, 
Did flie afunder : 
Each took his way; fome would to pleafures go, 
Some to the warres and tnunder 
Of alarms. 

As good go any where, they fay, 
As to benumme 
Both knees and heart, in crying night and day, 
Come, come, my God, O come, 
But no hearing. 

O that thou mouldft give duft a tongue 
To crie to thee, 
And then not heare it crying! all day long 
My heart was in my knee , 
But no hearing. 

Therefore my foul lay out of fight, 

Untun'd, unfirung: 
My feeble fpirit , unable to look right 
Like a nipt blorTome,hung 

O cheer and tune my heartlefTe breaft, 
Deferreno time; 
That fo thy favours granting my requeft, 

They and my minde may chime, 
And mend my ryme. 

f Chriftmas. 

A LI after pleafures as I rid one day, 
Myhorfe andI,both tir'd,bodie and minde, 
With full crie of affections, quite aftray; 
I took up in the next inne I could find. 


The Church. 73 

There when I came, whom found I but my deare, 
My deareft Lord, expecting till the grief 
Of pleafures brought me tohim,readie there 

To be all paffengers moil fweet relief? 

Thou, whofe glorious, yet contracted light, 

Wrapt in nights mantle, Hole into a manger; 
Since my dark foul and brutifh is thy right, 
To Man of all beafts be not thou a ftranger: 

Furnifh & deck my foul, that thou mayfl have 
Abetter lodging, then a rack, or grave. 

THe fhepherdsfmg; and fhall I filent be? 
My God, no hymne for thee? 
My foul's a fhepherd too ; a flock it feeds 

Of thoughts, and words, and deeds, 
The pafture is thy word: the ftreams, thy grace 

Enriching all the place. 
Shepherd and flock mall fing, and all my powers 

Out-fing the day-light houres. 
Then we will chide the funne for letting night 

Take up his place and right: 
We fing one common Lord; wherefore he mould 

Himfelf the candle hold. 

1 will go fearching, till I flnde a funne 

Shall flay, till we have done; 
A willing fhiner, that fhall fhine as gladly, 

As frofl-nipt funnes look fadly. 
Then we will fing, and fhine all our own day, 

And one another pay: 
His beams fhall cheer my breaft, and both fo twine, 
Till ev'n his beams fing, and my mufick fhine. 

D 1" Un- 

74 The Church. 

f Ungratefulneffe. 

LOrd, with what bountie and rare clemencie 
Haft thou redeem'd us from the grave! 

If thou hadft let us runne, 
Gladly had man ador'd the funne, 

And thought his god moft brave; 
Where now we (hall be better gods then he. 

Thou haft but two rare cabinets full of treafure, 
The Trinitie, and Incarnation: 

Thou haft unlockt them both, 
And made them jewels to betroth 
The work of thy creation 
"Unto thy felf in everlafting pleafure. 

The ftatelier cabinet is the Trinitie, 

Whofe fparkling light acceffe denies : 

Therefore thou doft not mow 
This fully to us, till death blow 
The duft into our eyes: 
For by that powder thou wilt make us fee. 

But all thy fweets are packt up in the other; 

Thy mercies thither flock and flow: 

That as the firft affrights, 
This may allure us with delights; 
Becaufe this box we know ; 
For we have all of us juft fuch another. 

But man is dole, refer v'd, and dark to thee: 
When thou demandeft but a heart, 

He cavils inftantly. 
In his poore cabinet of bone 

Sinnes have their box apart, 
Defrauding thee, who gaveft two for one. 

f si g h s 

The Church. 75 

f Sighs and Grones. 

V/ Do not ufe me 

After my finnes ! look not on my defer t, 
But on thy glorie ! then thou wilt reform 
And not refufe me : for thou onely art 
The mightie God, but I a fillie worm; 

O do not bruife me ! 

O do not urge me ! 
For what account can thy ill fteward make ? 
I have abus'd thy flock, deftroy'd thy woods, 
Suckt all thy magazens : my head did ake, 
Till it found out how to confume thy goods: 

O do not fcourge me! 

O do not blinde me! 
I have defervM. that an Egyptian night 
Should thicken all my powers ; becaufe my lull 
Hath ftill fow'd fig-leaves to exclude thy light: 
But I am frailtie, and already dull; 

O do not grinde me! 

O do not fill me 
With the turn'd viallof thy bitter wrath ! 
For thou haft other vefiels full of bloud, 
A part whereof my Saviour empti'd hath, 
Ev'n unto death : fince he di'd for my good , 
O do not kill me ! 

But O reprieve me ! 
For thou haft life and death at thy command; 
Thou art both Judge and Saviour, feaft and rod, 
Cordiall and Corrofive: put not thy hand 
Into the bitter box; but O my God, 

Mv God, relieve me! 

D 2 C The 

7 6 The Church. 

f The World. 

LOve built a {lately houfe; where Fortune came, 
And {pinning phanfies, {he was heard to fay, 
That her fine cobwebs did fupport the frame: 
Whereas they were fupported by the fame: 
But W if dome quickly fwept them all away. 

Then Pleafure came, who liking not the fafliion, 
Began to make Bah 'ones , Terraces, 
Till {he had weakned all by alteration : 
But rev'rend laws, and many a. proclamation 
Reformed all at length with menaces. 

Then enter'd Sinne, and with that Sycomore, 
Whofe leaves firft fheltred man from drought & dew, 
Working and winding {lily evermore, 
The inward walls and Sommers cleft and tore: 
But Grace {hor'd thefe, and cut that as it grew. 

Then Sinne combin'd with H^eath in a firm band 
To rafe the building to the very floore : 
Which they effected, none could them withftand. 
But Love and Grace took Glorie by the hand, 
And built a braver Palace then before. 


The Church. ni 

Colofl! 3. 3. 

Our life is hid with Chrijl in God. 

Ayf 7" words & thoughts do both exprefle this notion, 
**■ •* That Life hath with the fun a double motion. 
The fir it. // ftraight,and our diurnall friend, 
The other Hid, and doth obliquely bend. 
One life is wrapt In flefh , and tends to earth. 
The other winds towards /&>,7,whofe happie birth 
Taught me to live here fo , That Hill one eye 
Should aim and fhoo: at that which Is on high : 
Quitting with daily labour all My pleafure , 
To gain at harveit an eternall Treajure. 

f Vanitie. 

X He fleet Aftronomer can bore, 
And thred the fpheres with his quick-piercing minde : 
He views their ftations, walks from doore to doore, 

Surveys, as if he had defign'd 
To make a purchafe there: he fees their dances, 

And knoweth long before, 
Both their full-ey'd afpecls, and fecret glances. 

The nimble Diver with his fide 
Cuts through the working waves, that he may fetch 
His dearcly-earned pearl, which God did hide- 
On purpofe from the ventrous wretch; 
That he might fave his life, and alfo hers, 

Who with exceflive pride 
Her own deftru&ion and his danger wears. 

D 3 The 


The Church. 

The iuDtil Chymick can deveft 
And ftrip the creature naked, till he iinde 
The callow principles within their neft : 

There he imparts to them his minde, 
Aamhted to their bed-chamber, before 

They appeare trim and dreft 
To ordinarie fuitours at the doore. 

What hath not man fought out and found, 
But his deare God? who yet his glorious law 
Embofomes in us, mellowing the ground 

With fhowres and frofts, with love & aw, 
So that we need not fay, Where's this command ? 

Poore man, thou fearchefl round 
To finde out death, but miffeft life at hand. 

f Lent. 

WElcome deare feaft of Lent : who loves not thee, 
He loves not Temperance, or Authoritie, 
But is compos'd of paffion. 
The Scriptures bid us/a/i; the Church fayes, now : 
Give to thy Mother,what thou wouldft allow 
To ev'ry Corporation. 

The humble foul compos'd of love and fear 
Begins at home, and layes the burden there, 

When doctrines difagree. 
He fayes,in things which ufe hath juftly got, 
I am a fcandall to the Church, and not 

The Church is fo to me 


The Church. 79 

True Chriftians mould be glad of an occafion 
To ufe their temperance, feeking no evaiion, 

When good is feafonable; 
Unlefie Authoritie, which mould increafe 
The obligation in us ,make it lefTe, 

And Power it felf difable. 

Beiides the cleannefle of fweet abftinence, 
Quick thoughts and motions at a fmall expenfe, 

A face not fearing light: 
Whereas in fulnefle there are fluttifh. fumes, 
Sowre exhalations, and difhoneft rheumes, 

Revenging the delight. 

Then thofe fame pendant profits, which the fpring 
And Eafter intimate, enlarge the thing, 

And goodnefie of the deed. 
Neither ought other mens abufe of Lent 
Spoil the good ufe; left by that argument 

We forfeit all our Creed. 

It's true, we cannot reach Chrift's rorti'th day; 
Yet to go part of that religious way, 

Is better then to reft: 
We cannot reach our Saviours puritie; 
Yet are we bid. Be holy ev*n as be. 

In both let's do our beft. 

Who goeth in the way which Chrift hath gone, 
Is much more fure to meet with him, then one 

That travelleth by-wayes: 
Perhaps my God, though he be farre before, 
May turn, and take me by the hand, and more 

May flrengthen my decayes. 

D 4 Yet 

80 The Church. 

Yet Lord inftrucl: us to improve our faft 
By ftarving Unne and taking fuch repait, 

As may our faults controll : 
That ev'ry man may revell at his doore, 
Not in his parlour; banquetting the poore, 

And among thofe his foul. 

% Vertue. 

SWeet day,fo cool, fo calm, fo bright, 
The bridall of the earth and skie; 
The dew mall weep thy fall to night; 
For thou mull die. 

Sweet rofe, whofe hue angrie and brave 
Bids the rafh gazer wipe his eye : 
Thy root is ever in its grave, 

And thou mult die. 

Sweet fpring, full of fweet dayes and rofes, 
A box where fweets compacted lie; 
My mufick Ihows ye have your clofes, 
And allmufldie. 

Onely a fweet and vertuous foul, 
Like feafon'd timber, never gives; 
But though the whole world turn to coal.. 
Then chiefly lives. 

f The 

The Church. 81 

f The Pearl. Matth. 1 3. 

I Know the waves of learning; both the head 
And pipes that feed the preffe, and make it runne; 
What reafon hath from nature borrowed, 
Or of it felf, like a good hufwife, fpunne 
In laws and policie; what the ftarres confpire, 
What willing nature fpeaks, what forc'd by fire; 
Both th* old difcoveries, and the new-found feas, 
The flock and furplus, caufe and hiftorie: 
All thefe fland open, or I have the keyes: 
Yet I love thee. 

1 know the wayes of honour, what maintains 
The quick returns of courtefie and wit: 
In vies of favours whether partie gains, 
When glorie fwells the heart, andmoldeth it 
To all exprefTions both of hand and eye, 
Which on the world a true-love-knot may tie, 
And bear the bundle, wherefoe're it goes : 
How many drammes of fpirit there muft be 
To fell my life unto my friends or foes: 
Yet I love thee. 

I know the wayes of pleafure, the fweet {trains, 
The lullings and the relifhes of it; 
The propofitions of hot bloud and brains; 
What mirth and mufick mean ; what love and wit 
Have done thefe twentie hundred yeares, and more: 
I know the projects of unbridled llore: 
My ftuffe is flefh, not brafle; my fenfes live, 
And grumble oft, that they have more in me 
Then he that curbs them, being but one to five: 
Yet Hove thee. 

D 5 I 

82 The Church. 

I know all thefe, and have them in my hand: 
Therefore not fealed, but with open eyes 
I flie to thee, and fully underitand 
Both the main fale, and the commodities; 
And at what rate and price I have thy love; 
With all the circumftances that may move: 
Yet through the labyrinths, not my groveling wit, 
But thy filk twift let down from heav'n to me, 
Did both conduct and teach me, how by it 
To climbe to thee. 

f Affliction. 

BRokenin pieces all afunder, 
Lord, hunt me not, 
A thing forgot, 
Once a poore creature, now a wonder, 
A wonder tortur'd in the fpace 
Betwixt this world and that of grace. 

My thoughts are all a cafe of knives, 
Wounding my heart 
With fcatter'd fmart, 
As watring pots give flowers their lives. 
Nothing their furie can controll, 
While they do wound and prick my foul. 

All my attendants are at ftrife, 

Quitting their place 
"Unto my face: 
Nothing performs the task of life: 

The elements are let loofe to fight, 
And while I live, trie out their right. 


The Church. 83 

Oh help, my God! let not their plot 
Kill them and me, 
Andalfo thee, 
Who art my life : difTolve the knot, 

As the funne fcatters by his light 
All the rebellions of the night. 

Then fhall thofe powers, which work for grief, 
Enter thy pay, 
And day by day 
Labour thy praife, and my relief; 

With care and courage building me, 
Till I reach heav'n, and much more thee 


<[[ Man. 

_[ Y God, I heard this day, 
That none doth build a ftately habitation, 
But he that means to dwell therein. 
What houfe more ftately hath there been, 
Or can be, then is Man? to whofe creation 
All things are in decay 

For Man is ev'ry thing, 
And more: He is a tree, yet bears no fruit; 
A beaft, yet is, or mould be more: 
Reafon and fpeech we onely bring. 
Parrats may thank us, if they are not mute, 
They go upon the fcore. 

Man is all fymmetrie, 
Full of proportions, one limbe to another, 
And all to all the world befides: 
Each part mav call the fartheit, brother: 
For head with foot hath private amitie, 

And both with moons and tides. 


8 4 

The Church. 

Nothing hath got fo farre, 
But Man hath caught and kept it, as his prey. 
His eyes difmount the higheft flarre: 
He is in little all the fphere. 
Herbs gladly cure our fielh; becaufe that they 
Finde their acquaintance there. 

For us the windes do blow. 
The earth doth reft, heav'n move, and fountains flow. 
Nothing we fee, but means our good, 
As our delight, or as our treafure: 
The whole is, either our cupboard of food, 
Or cabinet of pleafure. 

The ftarres have us to bed; 
Night draws the curtain, which the funne withdraws; 
Mufick and light attend our head. 
All things unto OMifleJb are kinde 
In their defcent and being \ to our minde 
In their a/cent and caufe. 

Each thing is full of dutie: 
Waters united are our navigation; 
Diftinguifhed, our habitation; 
Below, our drink; above, our meat; 
Both are our cleanlinefTe. Hath one fuch beautie? 
Then how are all things neat? 

More fervants wait on Man, 
Then he'l take notice of: in ev'ry path 

He treads down that which doth befriend him, 
When ficknefle makes him pale and wan. 
Oh mightie love ! Man is one world, and hath 
Another to attend him. 


The Church. 85 

Since then,my God,thou hafl 
So brave a Palace built ; O dwell in it, 

That it may dwell with theeatlaft! 
Till then, afford us fo much wit ; 
That, as the world ferves us,we may ferve thee, 
And both thy fervants be. 

f Antiphon. 

Cbor. TQRaifed be the God of love, 
X Men. Here below, 

Angels. And here above: 
Cbo. Who hath dealt his mercies fo, 
Ang. To his friend, 
Men. And to his foe ; 

Cbo. That both grace and glorie tend 

Ang. Us of old, 

Men. And us in th'end. 
Cbo. The great fhepherd of the fold 

Ang. Us did make, 

Men. For us was fold. 

£be. He our foes in pieces brake ; 

Ang. Him we touch; 

Men. And him we take. 
Cbo. Wherefore fince that he is fuch , 

Ang. We adore, 

Men. And we do crouch. 

Cbo. Lord, thy praifes mould be more. 

Men. We have none, 

Ang. And wenoftore. 
Cbo. Praifed be the God alone, 

Who hath made of two folds one. 

1T Un- 

86 The Church. 

% Unkindnefle. 

LOrd, make me coy and tender to offend: 
In friendlhip, firft I think, if that agree, 
Which I intend, 
Unto my friends intent and end. 
I would not ufe a friend, as I ufe Thee. 

If any touch my friend, or his good name; 
It is my honour and my love to free 

His blafted fame 
From the leaft fpot or thought of blame. 
I could not ufe a friend as I ufe Thee. 

My friend may fpit upon my curious floore: 
Would he have gold? I lend it inftantly; 
But let the poore, 
And thou within them ftarve at doorc. 
I cannot ufe a friend , as I ufe Thee. 

When that my friend pretendeth to a place, 
I quit my intereft, and leave it free : 

But when thy grace 
Sues for my heart, I thee diiplace, 
Nor would I ufe a friend as I ufe Thee. 

Yet can a friend what thou haft done fulfill ? 
O write in brafle, My God upon a tree 

His I loud did spill 
Onely to pur chafe my good-will: 
Yet ufe I not my foes, as I ujetbee. 

f Life 

The Church. 87 

f Life. 

I Made a pofie, while the day ran by: 
Here will I fmell my remnant out, and tie 

My life within this band. 
But time did becken to the flowers, and they 
By noon moft cunningly did fteal away, 

And wither'd in my hand. 

My hand was next to them,and then my heart: 
I took,without more thinking, in good part 

Times gentle admonition: 
Who did fo fweetly deaths fad tafte convey, 
Making my minde to fmell my fatall day ; 

Yet fugring the fufpicion. 

Farewell deare flowers, fweetly your time ye fpent, 
Fit, while ye liv'd, for fmell or ornament , 

And after death for cures. 
I follow ftraight without complaints or grief, 
Since if my fent be good, I care not, if 

It be as fhort as yours. 

f Submiffion. 

BUt that thou art my wifdome, Lord, 
And both mine eyes are thine, 
My minde would be extreamly ftirr'd 
For miffing my defigne. 

Were it not better to beftow 

Some place and power on me? 
Then mould thy praifes with me grow, 

And fhare in my degree. 


88 The Church. 

But when I thus difpute and grieve, 

I do refume my fight, 
And pilfring what I once did give, 

DHTeize thee of thy right. 

How know I,if thou fhouldft me raife, 
That I mould then raife thee? 

Perhaps great places and the praife 
Do not fo well agree. 

Wherefore unto my gift I Hand ; 

I will no more advife : 
Onely do thou lend me a hand, 

Since thou hail both mine eyes. 

f Mice. 

£ Cannot skill of thefe thy wayes. 
Lord, thou didji ma\e me, yet thou woundeft me ; 
Lord, thou do ft wound me jet thou do ft relieve me: 
Lord, thou relieveft,yet I die by thee: 
Lord, thou do ft l(illme,yet thou do ft reprieve me. 

But when I mark my life and praife, 
Thy juftice me moft fitly payes : 
For, 1 do praife thee, yet I praife thee not: 
My prayers mean thee, yet my prayers ft ray: 
I would do well, yet finne the hand hath got : 
My foul doth love thee, yet it loves delay. 
I cannot skill of thefe my wayes. 


% Charms and Knots. 

Ho reade a chapter when they rife, 
Shall ne're be troubled with ill eyes. 

The Church. 89 

A poore mans rod, when thou doll ride, 
Is both a weapon and a guide. 

Who fhuts his hand, hath loll his gold: 
Who opens it, hath it twice told. 

Who goes to bed and doth not pray, 
Maketh two nights to ev'ry day. 

Who by afperfions throw a Hone 
At th' head of others, hit their own. 

Who looks on ground with humble eyes, 
Findes himfelf there, and feeks to rife. 

When th* hair is fweet through pride or lull, 
The powder doth forget the dull. 

Take one from ten , and what remains? 
Ten llill, if fermons go for gains. 

In mallow waters, heav'n doth fhow; 
But who drinks on,to hell may go. 


^ Affliction. 

__Y God, I read this day, 
That planted Paradife was not fo firm, 
As was and is thy floting Ark; whofe Hay 
And anchor thou art onely, to confirm 
And flrengthen it in ev'ry age, 
When waves do rife,and tempells rage. 

At firft we liv'd in pleafure; 
Thine own delights thou didfl to us impart: 
When we grew wanton, thou did' ft ufe difpleafurc 
To make us thine : yet that we might not part, 
As we at firft did board with thee, 
Now thou wouldil tafte our miferie. 

90 The Church. 

There is but joy and grief ; 
If either will convert us, we are thine: 
Some Angels us'd the firft; if our relief 
Take up the fecond, then thy double line 

And fev'rall baits in either kinde 

Furnifh thy table to thy minde. 

Affliction then is ours; 
We are the trees, whom making fallens more, 
While bluftring windes defiroy the wanton bowres, 
And ruffle all their curious knots and ftore. 
My God, fo temper joy and wo, 
That thy bright beams may tame thy bow. 

^ Mortification. 

J-JOw foon doth man decay! 
When clothes are taken from a cheft of fweets 
To fwaddle infants,whofe young breath 

Scarce knows the way; 
Thofe clouts are little winding meets, 
Which do configne and fend them unto death. 

When boyes go firf! to bed, 
They ftep into their voluntarie graves, 

Sleep bindes them fait.; onely their breath 

Makes them not dead; 
SuccefTive nights, like rolling waves, 
Convey them quickly, who are bound for death. 

When youth is frank and free, 
And calls for mufick, while his veins do fwell, 
All day exchanging mirth and breath, 
In companie; 
That mufick fummons to the knell, 
Which fhall befriend him at the houfe of death. 


The Church. 91 

When man grows ftaid and wife, 
Getting a houfe and home, where he may move 
Within the circle of his breath, 

Schooling his eyes; 
That dumbe inclofure maketh love 
Unto the coffin, that attends his death. 

When age grows low and weak, 
Marking his grave, and thawing ev'ry yeare, 
Till all do melt, and drown his breath 

When he would fpeak; 
A chair or litter fhows the biere, 
Which mall convey him to the houfe of death. 

Man, ere he is aware, 
Hath put together a folemnitie, 

And drefl his herfe, while he has breath 

As yet to fpare : 

Yet Lord, inftruct us fo to die, 

That all thefe dyings may be life in death. 

^[ Decay. 

OWeetwere the dayes, when thou didft lodge with 
^Struggle with Jacob, fit with Gideon, (Lot, 

Advife with Abraham, when thy power could not 
Encounter Moles ftrong complaints and mone: 
Thy words were then,Z^/ me alone. 

One might have fought and found thee prefently 
At fome fair oak, or bufh, or cave, or well: 
Is my God this way/' No, they would reply: 
He is to Sinai gone, as we heard tell: 

Lift, ye may heare great Aaron's bell. 


92 The Church. 

But now thou doft thy felf immure and clofe 
In fome one corner of a feeble heart: 
Where yet both Sinne and Satan, thy old foes, 
Do pinch and ftraiten thee, and ufe much art 
To gain thy thirds and little part. 

I fee the world grows old, when as the heat 
Of thy great love once fpread, as in an urn 
Doth clofet up it felf, and ftill retreat, 
Cold finne ftill forcing it, till it return, 

And calling Juftice, all things burn. 

^[ Miferie. 

LOrd, let the Angels praife thy name. 
Man is a foolifh thing, a foolifh thing, 

Folly and Sinne play all his game. 
His houfe ftill burns, and yet he ftill doth fing, 
Man is but grajfe, 
He \nows it^jilltheglajfe. 

How canft thou brook his foolilhnefle? 
Why he'l not lofe a cup of drink for thee: 

Bid him but temper his excefle; 
Not he: he knows, where he can better be, 
As he will fwear, 
Then to ferve thee in fear. 

What ftrange pollutions doth he wed, 
And make his own? as if none knew, but he. 

No man fhall beat into his head, 
That thou within his curtains drawn canft fee: 
They are of cloth, 
Where never yet came moth. 


The Church. 93 

The beft of men, turn but thy hand 
For one poor minute, Humble at a pinne : 

They would not have their a&ions fcann'd, 
Nor any forrow tell them that they finne, 
Though it be fmall, 
And meafure not their fall. 

They quarrell thee , and would give over 
The bargain made to ferve thee: but thy love 

Holds them unto it, and doth cover 
Their follies with the wing of thy milde Dcve, 
Not fufFring thofe 
Who would, to be thy foes. 

My God, Man cannot praife thy name : 
Thou art all brightnefre,perfec~t puritie; 

The funne holds down his head for fhame, 
Dead with eclipfes, when we fpeak of thee: 
How fhall infection 
Prefume on thy perfection? 

As dirtie hands foul all they touch, 
And thofe things moft, which are molt pure and fine? 

So our clay hearts, ev'n when we crouch 
To fing thy praifes, make them leffe divine. 
Yet either this, 
Or none thy portion is. 

Man cannot ferve thee; let him go, 
And ferve the fwine : there, there is his delight: 

He doth not like this vertue, no; 
Give him his dirt to wallow in all night: 
Thefe Preachers make 
His head to fhoot and ake. 


94 The Cburcb. 

Oh foolilh man ! where are thine eyes? 
How hall thou loft them in a croud of cares? 
Thou pulPft the rug, and wilt not rife, 
No not to purchafe the whole pack of ftarres: 
There let them mine, 
Thou mull go lleep, or dine. 

The bird that fees a daintie bowre 
Made in the tree, where me was wont to lit, 

Wonders and fings, but not his power 
Who made the arbour: this exceeds her wit. 
But Man doth know 
The fpring, whence all things flow: 

And yet, as though he knew it not, 
His knowledge winks, and lets his humours reigne; 

They make his life a conftant blot, 
And all the bloud of God to run in vain. 
Ah wretch ! what verfe 
Can thy ftrange waves rehearfe? 

Indeed at fir ft Man was a treafure, 
A box of jewels, mop of rarities, 

A ring,whofe pofie was, My pleafure: 
He was a garden in a Paradife*. 

Glorie and grace 
Did crown his heart and face. 

But fmne hath fool'd him. Now he is 
A lump of flelh, without a foot or wing 
To raife him to the glimpfe of blifle : 
Afick tofs'd velfel, dafhing on each thing; 
Nay, his own fhelf : 
My God, I mean my felf. 

^ Jordan. 

The Church. 95 

^| Jordan. 

WHen firft my lines of heav'nlyjoyes made men- 
Such was their luitre, they did fo excell, (tion, 
That I fought out quaint words, and trim invention; 
My thoughts began to burniih,fprout,and fwell, 
Curling with metaphors a plain intention, 
Decking the fenfe, as if it were to fell. 

Thoufands of notions in my brain did runne, 

Off'ring their fervice, if I were not fped: 

I often blotted what I had begunne; 

This was not quick enough, and that was dead. 

Nothing could feem too rich to clothe the funne, 

Much lefie thofe joyes which trample on his head. 

As flames do work and winde, when they afcend, 
So did I weave my felf into the fenfe. 
But while I buttled, I might heare a friend, 
Whifper, How wide is all this long pretence! 
There is in love ajweetne/fe readie penned: 
Copie out onely that, andfave expenfe. 

^| Prayer. 

OF what an eafie quick accefTe, 
My blelfed Lord, art thou ! how fuddenly 

May our requefts thine eare invade! 
To fhew that ftate diflikes not eafmeffe. 
If I but lift mine eyes, my fuit is made: 
Thou canft no more not heare, then thou canit die. 


9 6 

The Church. 

Of what fupreme almightie power 
Is thy great arm which fpans the eaftand weft, 

And tacks the centre to the fphere! 
By it do all things live their meafur'd houre: 
We cannot ask the thing, which is not there, 
Blaming the fhallowneile of our requeft. 

Of what unmeafurable love 
Art thou pofTeft,who, when thou couldft not die, 

Wert fain to take our flefh and curfe, 
And for our fakes in perfon finne reprove, 
That by deftroying that which ty'd thy purfe, 
Thou mightft make way for liberalise! 

Since then thefe three wait on thy throne, 
Eafe, Power, and Love ; I value prayer fo, 

That were I to leave all but one, 
Wealth, fame, endowments, venues, all mould go; 
I and deare prayer would together dwell, 
And quickly gain, for each inch loft, and ell. 

fl Obedience. 

MY God, if writings may 
Convey a Lordihip any way 
Whither the buyer and the feller pleafe; 

Let it not thee difpleafe, 
If this poore paper do as much as they. 

On it my heart doth bleed 
As many lines, as there doth need 
To paffe it felf and all it hath to thee, 

To which I do agree, 
And here prefent it as my fpeciall deed, 


The Church. 97 

If that hereafter Pleafure 
Cavill, and claim her part and meafure, 
As 1/ this palled with a refervation, 

Of fome fuch words in fafhion ; 
T here exclude the wrangler from thy treafure. 

O let thy facred will 
All thy delight in me fulfill! 
Let me not think an action mine own way, 

But as thy love mall fway, 
Refigning up the rudder to thy skill. 

Lord, what is man to thee, 
That thou fhouldft minde a rotten tree? 
Yet fince thou canft not choofe but fee my actions; 

So great are thy perfections, 
Thou mayft as well my actions guide, as fee. 

Befides, thy death and bloud 
Show'd a itrange love to all our good: 
Thy forrows were in earneft; no faint proffer, 

Or fuperficiall offer 
Of what we might not take, or be withftood. 

Wherefore I all forgo: 
To one word onely I fay, No: 
Where in the deed there was an intimation 

Of a gift or donation, 
Lord, let it now by way of pur chafe go. 

He that will paffe his land, 
As I have mine, may fet his hand 
And heart unto this deed, when he hath read; 

And make the purchafe fpread 
To both our goods, if he to it will ftand, 

E How 

9 8 

The Church. 

How happie were my part, 
If fome kinde man would thruft his heart 
Into thefe lines; till in heav'ns court of rolls 

They were by winged fouls 
Entred for both, farre above their defert! 

^[ Confcience. 

\f Eace pratler, do not lowre: 
Not a fair look, but thou dofl call it foul : 
Not a fweet dim, but thou doft call it fowre: 
Mufick to thee doth howl. 
By liftning to thy chatting fears 
I have both loft mine eyes and eares. 

Pratler, no more, I fay: 
My thoughts mull work, but like a noifeleffe fphere : 
Harmonious peace muftrock them all the day: 
No room for pratlers there. 
If thou perfifteft, I will tell thee, 
That I have phyfick to expell thee. 

And the receit mall be 
My Saviours bloud: when ever at his board 
I do but tafte it, ftraight it cleanfeth me, 
And leaves thee not a word; 
No, not a tooth or nail to fcratch, 
And at my actions carp, or catch. 

Befides my phyfick. know there's fome for thee-. 
Some wood and nails to make a ftaffe or bill 
For thole that trouble me: 
The bloudie croffe of my deare Lord 
Is both my phyfick and my fword. 

1T Sion 

Tbe Cburcb. 99 

^[ Sion. 

LOrd, with what glorie waft thou ferv'd of old, 
When Solomons temple flood and flourifhed! 
Where moft things were of pureftgold; 
The wood was all embellifhed 
With flowers and carvings; myflicall and rare: 
All fhow'd the builders, crav'd the feers care. 

Yet all this glorie,all this pomp and ftate 

Did not afreet thee much, was not thy aim; 
Something there was, that fow'd debate: 
Wherefore thou quitt'ft thy ancient claim: 

And now thy Architecture meets with finne; 

For all thy frame and fabrick is within. 

There thou art ftruggling with a peevifh heart, 
Which fometimes crofTeth thee, thou fometimes it: 

The fight is hard on either part. 

Great God doth fight, he doth fubmit. 
All Solomons fea of brafTe and world of flone 
Is not fo deare to thee as one good grone 

And truly brafTe and ftones are heavie things, 
Tombes for the deadmot temples fit for thee: 

But grones are quick, and full of wings, 

And all their motions upward be; 
And ever as they mount, like larks they fing; 
The note is fad, yet mufick for a king. 

^| Home. 

COme Lord, my head doth burn, my heart is fick, 
While thou doft ever, ever ftay : 
Thy long deferrings wound me to the quick, 
My fpirit gafpeth night and day. 
O fhew thy felf to me, 
Or take me up to thee! 

E 2 How 

ioo The Church. 

How canft thou (lay, considering the pace 

The bloud did make, which thou did'ft wafte? 
When I behold it trickling down thy face, 
I never faw thing make fuch hafte. 
O fhow thyfelf to me, 
Or take me up to thee! 

When man was loft, thy pitie lookt about 

To fee what help in th' earth or skie : 

But there was none ; at leaft no help without : 
The help did in thy bofome lie. 
O fhow thy, &c. 

There lay thy fonne : and muft he leave that nefl, 
That hive of fweetneffe, to remove 

Thraldome from thofe , who would not at a fcaft 
Leave one poore apple for thy love? 
O fhow thy, &c. 

He did,he came: O my Redeemer deare, 
After all this canft thou be ftrange? 
So many yeares baptiz'd, and not appeare? 
As if thy love could fail or change. 
O fhow thy, &c. 

Yet if thou ftayeft ftill, why muft I ftay? 

My God, what is this world to me? 
This world of wo ? hence all ye clouds, away, 
Away; I muft get up and fee, 
O fhow thy, &c. 

What is this weary world; this meat and drink, 
That chains us by the teeth fo fall? 

What is this woman-kinde, which I can wink 
Into a blackneffe and diftafte? 
O fhow thy, &c. 


The Church. 101 

With one fmall figh thou gav'ft me th' other day 

I blaited all the joyes about me: 
And fcouling on them as they pin'd away, 

Now come again, faid I, and flout me. 
O ihow thy felf to me, 
Or take me up to thee! 

Nothing but drought and dearth, but bufh and brake, 

Which way fo-e're I look, I fee. 
Some may dream merrily, but when they wake, 

They drefle themfelves and come to thee 
O Ihow thy, &c. 

We talk ofharvefts; there are no fuch things, 
But when we leave our corn and hay: 

There is no fruitfull yeare, but that which brings 
The laft and lov'd, though dreadfull day. 
O fhow thy, &c. 

Ohloofe this frame, this knot of man untie! 

That my free foul may ufe her wing, 
Which now is pinion'd with mortalitie, 

As an intangled, hamper'd thing. 
O Ihow thy, &c. 

What have I left, that I mould flay and gronef 
The moll of me to heav'n is fled: 

My thoughts and joyes are all packt up and gone, 
And for their old acquaintance plead. 
O fhow thy, &c. 

Come deareft Lord, pafle not this holy feafon, 
My flefh and bones and j oynts do pray : 

And ev'n my verfe, when by the ryme and reafon 
The word is, Stay, fayes ever, Come. 
O Ihow thy, &c. 

E 3 f The 


1 02 The Church. 

1" The Britifh Church. 

Joy, deaie Mother, when I view 
Thy perfect lineaments, and hue 

Both fweet and bright 

Beautie in thee takes up her place, 
And dates her letters from thy face, 

When fhe doth write. 

A fine afpect in fit aray, 

N either too mean, nor yet too gay, 

Shows who is beft. 

Outlandifh looks may not compare : 
For all they either painted are, 

Or elfe undreft. 

She on the hills, which wantonly 
Allureth all, in hope to be 

By her preferr'd, 

Hath kifs'd fo long her painted ihrines, 
That ev'n her face by killing mines, 
For her reward. 

She in the valley is fo fhie 

Of drefling, that her hair doth lie 

About her eares : 

While fhe avoids her neighbours pride, 
She wholly goes on th'other fide, 

And nothing wears. 

But deareft Mother, (what thofe mifTe) 
The mean thy praife and glorie is, 

And long may be. 

Blefled be God, whofe love it was 
To doable-moat thee with his grace, 

And none but thcc. 11 The 

The Church. 103 

f The Quip. 

THe merrie world did on a day 
With his train-bands and mates agree 
To meet together, where I lay, 
And all in f port to geere at me. 

Firft, Beautie crept into a rofe, 
Which when I pluckt not, Sir, faid fhe, 
Tell me, I pray,Whofe hands are thofe? 
But thou ihalt anfwer, Lord, for me. 

Then Money came, and chinking ftill, 
What tune is this, poore man ? faid he: 
I heard in Mufick you had skill. 
But thou ihalt anfwer, Lord, for me. 

Then came brave Glorie puffing by 
In filks that whittled, who but he? 
He fcarce allow'd me half an eie. 
But thou fhalt anfwer, Lord, for me. 

Then came quick Wit and Converfation, 
And he would needs a comfort be, 
And, to be fhort, make an oration. 
But thou fhalt anfwer, Lord, for me. 

Yet when the houre of thy defigne 
To anfwer thefe fine things fhall come; 
Speak not at large, fay, I am thine: 
And then they have their anfwer home. 

Ed T" Van i tie. 

104 The Church. 

^f Vanitie. 

POore filly foul, whofe hope andhead lies low; 
Whofe flat delights on earth do creep and grow; 
To whom the ftarres ihine not fo fair, as eyes; 
Nor folid work, as falfe embroyderies; 
Heark and beware, left what you now do meafure 
And write for fweet, prove a molt fowre difpleafure. 

O heare betimes, left thy relenting 

May come too late! 
To purchafe heaven for repenting, 

Is no hard rate. 
If fouls be made of earthly mold, 

Let them love gold; 

If born on high, 
Let them unto their kindred Hie: 
For they can never be at reft, 
Till they regain their ancient neft. 
Then filly foul take heed; for earthly joy 
Is but a bubble, and makes thee a boy. 

^f The Dawning. 

A Wake fad heart, whom forrow ever drowns; 
Take up thine eyes, which feed on earth; 
Unfold thy forehead gather'd into frowns: 
Thy Saviour comes, and with him mirth: 
Awake, awake; 
And with a thankfull heart his comforts take. 
But thou doft ftill lament, and pine, and crie; 
And feel his death, but not his victorie. 


The Church. 105 

Arife fad heart; if thou doft not withftand, 

Chrifts refurrection thine may be: 
Do not by hanging down break from the hand, 

Which as it rifeth, raifeth thee: 
Arife, arife; 
And with his buriall-linen drie thine eyes: (grief 

Chrift left his grave-clothes, that we might,when 

Draws tears, or bloud,not want an handkerchief. 

f Jesu. 

JE S U is in my heart, his facred name 
Is deeply carved there: but th'other week 
A great affliction Broke the little frame, 
Ev'n all to pieces, which I went to feek: 
And nrft I found the corner, where was J, 
After,where E S, and next where r O was graved. 
When I had got thefe parcels, inftantly 
I fat me down to fpell them, and perceived 
That to my broken heart he was I eafeyou, 

And to my whole \$JES V. 


f Bufineffe. 

Anil be idle? canil thou play, 
Foolifh foul who finn'd to day / 

Rivers run, and fprings each one 
Know their home, and get them gone: 
Haft thou tears, or hail thou none ? 

If, poore foul, thou haft no tears; 
Would thou hadft no faults or fears ! 
Who hath thcfc, thofe ill forbears. 

E 5 Windes 

io6 The Church. 

Windes ftill work: it is their plot, 
Be the feafon cold, or hot: 
Haft thou fighs, or haft thou not? 

If thou haft no fighs or grones, 
Would thou hadft no flefh and bones/ 
LefTer pains fcape greater ones 

But if yet thou idle be, 
Foolifh foul, Who di'd for thee ? 

Who did leave his Fathers throne 
To afTume thy flefh and bone; 
Had he life, or had he none? 

If he had not liv'd for thee, 
Thou hadft di'd moft wretchedly • 
And two deaths had been thy fee. 

He fo farre thy good did plot, 
That his own felf he forgot. 
Did he die, or did he not? 

If he had not di'd for thee, 

Thou hadft liv'd in miferie. 

Two lives worfe then ten deaths be. 

And hath any fpace of breatn 
'Twixt his finnes and Saviours death ? 

He that lofeth gold, though droffc, 
Tells to all he meets, his crofte: 
He that finnes, hath he no loiTe ? 

He that findes a filver vein, 
Thinks on it, and thinks again: 
Brings thy Saviours death no gain? 

Who in heart not ever kneels 
Neither finne nor Saviour feels. 

The Church. 107 

f[ Dialogue. 

SWeeteft Saviour, if my foul 
Were but worth the having, 
Quickly mould I thencontroll 
Any thought of waving. 
But when all my care and pains 
Cannot give the name of gains 
To thy wretch fo full of ftains; 
What delight or hope remains? 

What ( childe) is the ballance thine ; 

Thine the poife and meafure? 
If I fay, Jhoujhalt be mine; 

Finger not my treafure. 
What the gains in having thee 
Do amount to, onely he, 
Who for man was fold, can fee \ 
That transferred tV accounts to me. 

But I can fee no merit , 

Leading to this favour: 
So the way to fit me for it, 

Is beyond my favour. 
As the reafon then is thine; 
So the way is none of mine : 
I difclaim the whole defigne: 
Sinne difclaims and I refigne. 

That is all, if that I could 

Get without repining-, 
And my clay my creature would 

Follow my refgning. 
That as I did freely part 
With my glorie and defer t, 
Left alljoyes to feel allfmart-— 

Ah / no more : thou break'ft my heart. 

tf DulneiTc 

io8 The Church. 

^ DulneiTe. 

V \^Hy do I languifh thus, drooping and dull 

As if I were all earth? 
O give me quicknefTe, that I may with mirth 
Praife thee brim-full.' 

The wanton lover in a curious ftrain 

Can praife his faireft fair; 
And with quaint metaphors her curled hair 
Curl o're again. 

Thou art my lovelinefle, my life, my light, 

Beautie alone to me: 
Thy bloudy death and undeferv'd, makes thee 
Pure red and white. 

When all perfections as but one appeare, 

That thofe thy form doth fhow, 
The very dull, where thou doft tread and go, 
Makes beauties here ; 

Where are my lines then? my approaches? views? 

Where are my window fongs? 
Lovers are Hill pretending, & ev'n wrongs 
Sharpen their Mufe: 

But I am loft in flefh, whofe fugred lyes 

Still mock me, and grow bold: 
Sure thou didft put a minde there , if I could 
Finde where it lies. 

Lord, cleare thy gift, tnat with a conftant wit 

I may but look towards thee: 
Loo£ onely; for to love thee, who can be, 
What angel fit ? 

11 Love-joy, 

The Church. ioo. 

f Love-joy. 

AS on a window late I call mine eye, 
I faw a vine drop grapes with J and C 
Anneal'd on every bunch. One Handing by 
Ask'd what it meant. I (who am never loth 
To fpend my iudgement) faid, It feem'd to nag 
To be the bodie and the letters both 
Of Joy and Cbaritie. Sir, you have not mifs'd, 
The man reply'd ; It figures JESVS CHRIS T. 

1* Providence. 

O Sacred Providence,who from end to end 
Strongly and fweetiy moveil! fhall I write, 
And not of thee,through whom my fingers bend 
To hold my quill: fhall they not do thee right? 

Of all the creatures both in fea and land 
Onely to Man thou haft made known thy wayes, 
And put the penne alone into his hand, 
And made him Secretarie of thy praife. 

Beafts fain would ring; birds dittie to their notes; 
Trees would be tuning on their native lute 
To thy renown : but all their hands and throats 
Are brought to Man, while they are lame and mute. 

Man is the worlds high Prieft: he doth prefent 

The facrifice for all; while they below 

Unto the fervice mutter an afient, 

Such as fprings ufe that fall,and windes that blow. 

He that to praife and laud thee doth refrain, 
Doth not refrain unto himfelf alone, 
But robs a thoufand who would praife thee fain, 
And doth commit a world of finne in one. The 

1 1 o The Church. 

The beafts fay, Eat me:but,if beafts muft teach, 
The tongue is yours to eat, but mine to praife. 
The trees fay,Pull me: but the hand you ftretch, 
Is mine to write , as it is yours to raife. 

Wherefore,moft facred Spirit,I here prefent 
For me and all my fellows praife to thee: 
And juft it is that I mould pay the rent, 
Becaufe the benefit accrues to me. 

We all acknowledge both thy power and love 
To be exact, tranfcendent,and divine; 
Who doft fo ftrongly and fo fweetly move, 
While all things have their will,yet none but thine. 

For either thy command, or thy permijjion 
Lay hands on all :they are thy right and left. 
The firft puts on with fpeed and expedition; 
The other curbs finnes ftealing pace and theft. 

Nothing efcapes them both; all muft appeare, 
And be difpos'd,and drefs'd,and tun'd by thee, 
Who fweetly temper'ft all. If we could heare 
Thy skill and art, what mufick would it be! 

Thou art in fmall things great, nor fmall in any: 
Thy even praife can neither rife, nor fall. 
Thou art in all things one, in each thing many: 
For thou art infinite in one and all. 

Tempefts are calm to thee; they know thy hand, 
And hold it faft,as children do their fathers, 
Which crie and follow. Thou haft made poore fand 
Check the proud fea,ev'n when it fwells and gathers. 

Thy cupboard ferves the world : the meat is fet, 
Where all may reach :no beaft but knows his feed. 
Birds teach us hawking; fifties have their net: 
The great prey on the lefle, they on fome weed. 


The Church. I t i 

Nothing ingendred doth prevent his meat: 
Flies have their table fpread,ere they appeare. 
Some creatures have in winter what to eat; 
Others do fleep,and envie not their cheer. 

How finely doft thou times and feafons fpin, 
And make a twift checker'd with night and day! 
Which as it lengthens windes,and windes us in, 
As bouls go on, but turning all the way. 

Each creature hath a wifdome for his good. 
The pigeons feed their tender off-fpring,crying, 
When they are callow; but withdraw their food 
When they are fledge,that need may teach tne flying 

Bees work for man ; and yet they never bruife 
Their matters flower,but leave it,having done, 
As fair as ever, and as fit to ufe ; 
So both the flower doth flay, and hony run. 

Sheep eat the grafle, and dung the ground for more: 
Trees after bearing drop their leaves for foil: 
Springs vent their ftreams, and by expenfe get ftore: 
Clouds cool by heat, and baths by cooling boil. 

Who hath the vertue to exprefTe the rare 
And curious vertues both of herbs and ftones? 
Is there an herb for that ? O that thy care 
Would ihow a root, that gives expreflions! 

And if an herb hath po\ver,what have the flarres? 
A rofe,befides his beautie, is a cure. 
Doubtlefle our plagues and plentie, peace and warres 
Are there much furer then our art is fure. 

Thou haft hid metals:man may take them thence; 
But at his perill : when he digs the place, 
He makes a grave; as if the thing had fenfe, 
And threatned man, that he fhould fill the fpace. 


1 1 2 The Cburcb, 

Ev'n poyfon's praife thee. Should a thing be loftr* 
Should creatures want for want of heed their due? 
Since where are poyfons, antidots are moll: 
The help ftands clofe, and keeps the fear in view. 

The fea, which feems to flop the traveller, 
Is by a fhip the fpeedier pallage made. 
The windes,who think they rule the mariner, 
Are rul'd by him,and taught to ferve his trade. 

And as thy houfe is full , fo I adore 

Thy curious art in marfhalling thy goods. 

The hills with health abound;the vales with ftore; 

The South with marble ;North with furres Sc woods, 

Hard things are glorious ;eafie things good cheap. 
The common all men have ; that which is rare, 
Men therefore feek to have, and care to keep. 
The healthy frofts with lummer-fruits compare. 

Light without winde is glafTe : warm without weight 
Is wooll and furres: cool without clofeneiTe^fhade: 
Speed without pains, a horfe: tall without height, 
A fervile hawk: low without lofTe, a fpade. 

All countreys have enough to ferve their need: 
If they feek fine things, thou doll make them run 
For their offence; and then doft turn their fpeed 
To be commerce and trade from funne to funne. 

Nothing wears clothes, but Man ; nothing doth need 
But he to wear them. Nothing ufeth fire, 
But Man alone, to mow his heav'nly breed: 
And onely he hath fuell in defire. 

When th' earth was dry,thou mad'ft a fea of wet : 
Whe that lay gather'd,thou didft broach the moutains : 
When yet fome places could no moifture get, (tains. 
The windes grew gard'ners, and the clouds good foun- 


The CCurcb. 1 1 3 

Rain, do not hurt my flowers ; but gently fpend 
Your hony drops : prefle not to fmell them here: 
When they are ripe,their odour will afcend, 
And at your lodging with their thanks appeare. 

How harm are thorns to pears! and yet they make 
A better hedge, and need leffc reparation. 
How fmooth are filks compared with a Hake, 
Or with a ftone! yet make no good foundation. 

Sometimes thou do ft divide thy gifts to man, 
Sometimes unite. The Indian nut alone 
Is clothing,meat and trencher,drink and kan, 
Boat,cable,fail and needle, all in one. 

Moft herbs that grow in brooks,are hot and dry. 
Cold fruits warm kernells help againft the winde. 
The lemmons juice and rinde cure mutually. 
The whey of milk doth loofe,the milk doth binde. 

Thy creatures leap not, but exprefle a feaft. 
Where all the guefts fit clofe, and nothing wants. 
Frogs marry fifh and flefh; bats,bird and beaft : 
Sponges,non-fenfe and fenfe ;mines,th' earth & plants. 

To fhow thou art not bound, as if thy lot 
Were worfe then ours ; fometimes thou fhifteft hands. 
Moft things move th' under-jaw;the Crocodile not. 
Moft things deep lying ;th' Elephant leans or (lands. 

But who hath praife enoughPnay who hath any ? 
None can exprefle thy works,but he that knows them : 
And none can know thy works, which are fo many, 
And fo complete, but onely he that owes them. 

All things that are, though they have fev'rall waves, 
Yet in their being joyn with one advife 
To honour thee : and fo I give thee praife 
In all my other hymnes, but in this twice. 


*I4 The Church. 

Each thing that is, although in ufe and name 
It go for one, hath many wayes in ftore 
To honour thee; and fo each hymne thy fame 
Extolleth many wayes, yet this one more. 

f Hope. 

I Gave to Hope a watch of mine : but he 
An anchor gave to me. 
Then an old prayer-book I did prefent: 

And he an optick fent. 
With that I gave a viall full of tears: 

But he a few green eares: 
Ah Loyterer! Fie no more,no more Fie bring: 
I did expect a ring. 

f Sinnes round. 

SOrrie I am, iny God, forrie I am, 
That my offences courfe it in a ring. 
My thoughts are working like a bufie flame, 
Untill their cockatrice they hatch and bring: 
And when they once have perfected their draughts, 
My words take fire from my inflamed thoughts. 

My words take fire from my inflamed thoughts, 

Which fpit it forth like the Sicilian hill. 

They vent the wares,and pafle them with their faults 

And by their breathing ventilate the ill. 

But words fuifice not, where are lewd intentions: 

My hands do joyn to finifh the inventions. 

My hands do joyn to finifh the inventions : 

And fo my finnes afcend three flories high, 

As Babel grew, before there were diflentions. 

Yet ill deeds loyter not: for they fupplie 

New thoughts of finning:wherefore,to my fhame, 

Sorrie I am, my God,forrie I am. U Time. 

The Church. 1 1 5 

% Time. 

MEeting with Time, flack thing, faid I, 
Thy fithe is dull ; whet it for fname. 
No marvell Sir, he did replie, 
If it at length deferve fome blame: 

But where one man would have me grinde it, 
Twentie for one too fharp do iinde it. 

Perhaps fome fuch of old did paffe, 

Who above all things lov'd this life; 

To whom thy fithe a hatchet was, 

Which now is but a pruning-knife. 

Chrifts coming hath made man thy debter, 
Since by thy cutting he grows better. 

And in his blefling thou art bleft: 
For where thou onely wert before 
An executioner at beft; 
Thou art a gard'ner now, and more, 

An ufher to convey our fouls 

Beyond the utmoft ftarres and poles. 

And this is that makes life fo long, 
While it detains us from our God. 
Ev'n pleafures here increafe the wrong, 
And length of dayes lengthen the rod. 

Who wants the place,where God doth dwell, 

Partakes already half of hell. 

Of what ftrange length mull that needs be, 
Which ev'n eternitie excludes! 
Thus farre Time heard me patiently: 
Then chafing faid, This man deludes: 

What do I here before his doore? 

He doth not crave lefle time , but more. 

H Grate- 

ii6 The Church. 

f Gratefulnefle. 

HPHou that haft giv'n fo much to me, 
A Give one thing more,a gratefull hearto 
See how thy beggar works on thee 
By art. 

He makes thy gifts occafion more , 
And fayes, If he in this be croft, 
All thou haft giv'n him heretofore 
Is loft. 

But thou didft reckon, when at firft 
Thy word our hearts and hands did crave. 
What it would come to at the worft 
To fave. 

Perpetuall knockings at thy doore, 
Tears fullying thy tranfparent rooms. 
Gift upon gift,much would have more. 
And comes. 

This not withftanding, thou wentft on, 
And didft allow us all our noife: 
Nay thou haft made a figh and grone 
Thy joyes. 

Not that thou haft not ftill above 
Much better tunes,then grones can make; 
But that thefe countrey-aires thy love 
Did take. 

Wherefore I crie, and crie again ; 
And in no quiet canft thou be, 
Till I a thankfull heart obtain 

Of thee: 


The Church. n7 

Not thankfull, when it pleafeth me; 
As if thy blefsings had fpare dayes: 
But fuch a heart,whofe pulfe may be 
Thy praife. 

^ Peace. 

SWeet Peace/where doft thou dwell?Ihmmbly crav^, 
Let me once know. 
I fought thee in a fecret cave, 
And ask'd, if Peace were there. 
A hollow winde did feem to anfwer, No: 
Go feek elfewhere. 

I did; and going did a rainbow note : 

Surely, thought I, 
This is the lace of Peaces coat: 
I will fearch out the matter. 
But while Ilookt, the clouds immediately 

Did break and fcatter. 

Then went I to a garden , and did fpy 
A gallant flower, 
The crown Imperiall:Sure,faid I, 
Peace at the root mull dwell. 
But when I digg'd, I faw a worm devoure 

What mow' d fowell. 

At length I met a I'cv'rend good old man, 

Whom when for Peace 
I did demand; he thus began: 
There was a Prince of old 
Kt Salem dwelt, who liv'd with good increafc 
Of flock and fold. 


1 1 8 The Church. 

He fweetly liv'd; yet fweetnefTe did not fave 
His life from foes. 
But after death out of his grave 

There fprang twelve ftalks of wheat: 
Which many wondring at, got fome of thofe 
To plant and fet. 

It profper'd ftrangely, and did foon difperfe 
Through all the earth: 
For they that tafte it do rehearfe, 
Xhat vertue lies therein, 
A fecret vertue bringing peace and mirth 
By flight of finne. 

Take of this grain, which in my garden grows, 
And grows for you; 
Make bread of it: and that repofe 
And peace which ev'ry where 
With fo much earneflnefTe you dopurfue, 
Is onely there. 


fl Confeffion. 

1 What a cunning gueft 
Is this fame grief! within my heart I made 

Clofets; and in them many a cheft; 

And like a matter in my trade, 
In thofe chefls, boxes ;in each box, a till: 
Yet grief knows all, and enters when he will. 

No fcrue, no piercer can 
Into a piece of timber work and winde, 
As Gods afflictions into man, 
When he a torture hath defign'd. 
They are too fubtill for the fubt'lleft hearts; 
And fall, like rheumes, upon the tendrefl parts. 


The Church. 1 1 9 

We are the earth; and they, 
Like moles within us, heave, and caft about: 
And till they foot and clutch their prey, 
They never cool, much lefle give out, 
No fmith can make fuch locks, but they have keyes: 
Clofets are halls to them; and hearts, high-wayes. 

Onely an open breaft 
Doth fhut them out, (o that they cannot enter; 
Or, if they enter, cannot reft, 
But quickly feek fome new adventure. 
Smooth open hearts no faftning have; but fi6lion 
Doth give a hold and handle to affliction. 

Wherefore my faults and fmnes, 
Lord, I acknowledge; take thy plagues away: 

For fince confeffion pardon winnes, 

I challenge here the brighteft day, 
The cleareft diamond: let them do their beft, 
They fhall be thick and cloudie to my breaft. 

% GiddindTe. 

OH, what a thing is man! how farre from power, 
Fromfetled peace and reft! 
He is fome twentie fev'rall men at leaft 
Each fev'rall houre. 

One while he counts of heav'n, as of his treafure: 
But then a thought creeps in, 

And calls him coward, who for fear of finne 
Will lofe a pleafure. 


120 The Church. 

Now he will light it out, and to the warres; 

Now eat his bread in peace, 
And fnudge in quiet: now he fcorns increafe; 

Now all day fpares. 

He builds a houfe, which quickly down muft go, 

As if a whirlwinde blew 
Andcrufhtthe building: and it's partly true, 

His minde is fo. 

O what a fight were Man, if his attires 
Did alter with his minde; 

And like a Dolphins skinne, his clothes combin'd 
With his defires! 

Surely if each one faw anothers heart-., 

There would be no commerce, 

No fale or bargain paffe: all wouid difperfe, 
And live apart. 

Lord, mend or rather make us : one creation 
Will not fuffice our turn : 

Except thou make us dayly, we fhall fpurn 
Our own Salvation. 

^[ The bunch of grapes. 

JOy, I did lock thee up: but fome bad man 
Hath let thee out again : 
And now, me thinks, I am where I began 
Sev'n yeares ago : one vogue and vein^ 
One aire of thoughts ufurps my brain. 
I did toward Canaan draw; but now I am 
Brought back to the Red fea, the fea of ihame. 


The Church. 121 

For as the Jews of old by Gods command 

TravelFd, and faw no town : 
So now each Chriftian hath his journeys fpann'd: 

Their ftorie pennes and fets us down. 

A Tingle deed is fmall renown. 
Gods works are wide, and let in future times; 
His ancient juftice overflows our crimes. 

Then have we too our guardian fires and clouds; 

Our Scripture-dew drops fail: 
We have our fands and ferpents, tents and ihrowds; 

Alas! our murmurings come not laft. 

But where's the clutter ? where's the tafte 
Of mine inheritance ? Lord, if I muft borrow, 
Let me as well take up their joy ,as forrow. 

But can he want the grape, who hath the wine ? 

I have their fruit and more. 
Blefled be God, who profper d Noahs vine, 

And made it bring forth grapes good flore. 

But much more him I muft adore, 
Who of the laws fowre juice fweet wine did make, 
Ev'n God himfelf, being prefled for my lake. 

^f Love unknown. 

DEare Friend, fit down, the tale is long and fad: 
And in my faintings I prefume your loue 
Will more complie, then help. A Lord I had, 
And have, of whom fome grounds which may im- 
I hold for two lives, aud both lives in me. (prove, 
To him I brought a difh of fruit one day, 
And in the middle plac'd my heart. But he 

( I figh to fay ) 
F Lookt 

122 The Church. 

Lookt on a feruant, who did know his eye 

Better then you know me, or ( which is one ) 

Then I my felf. The fervant inftantly 

Quitting the fruit , feiz'd on my heart alone, 

And threw it in a font, wherein did fall 

A ftream of bloud, which iffu'd from the fide 

Of a great rock: I well remember all , 

And have good caufe: there it was dipt and di , d > 

And wafht, and wrung: the very wringing yet 

Enforceth tears. Your heart was foul, I fear. 

Indeed 'tis true. I did and do commit 

Many a fault more then my leafe will bear; 

Yet flill askt pardon, and was not deni'd. 

But you fhall heare. After my heart was well, 

And clean and fair, as I one even-tide 

Walkt by my felf abroad, I faw a large 
And fpacious fornace flaming, and thereon 
A boyling caldron, round about whofe verge 
Was in great letters fet AFFLIC TION. 
The greatneife fhew'd the owner. So I went 
To fetch a facrifice out of my fold, 
Thinking with that, which I did thus prefent, 
To warm his love, which I did fear grew cold. 
But as my heart did tender it, the man 
Who was to take it from me, flipt his hand, 
And threw my heart into a fcalding pan; 
My heart, that brought it ( do you underftand? ) 
The offerers heart. Your heart was hard, I fear. 
Indeed 'tis true. I found a callous matter 
Began to fpread and to expatiate there: 
But with a richer drug, then fcalding water, 
I bath'd it often, ev'n with holy bloud, 
Which at a board, while many drunk bare wine, 
A friend did Ileal into my cup for good, 
Ev'n taken inwardly , and mofl divine 


The Church. 123 

To fupple hardnefles. But at the length 
Out of the caldron getting, Toon I fled 
Unto my houfe, where to repair the ftrength 
Which I had loft, I hafted to my bed. 
But when I thought to fleep out all thefe faults 

( I figh to fpeak ) 
I found that fome had ftufTd the bed with thoughts, 
I would fay thorns, Deare, could my heart not break, 
When with my pleafures ev'n my reft was gone ? 
Full well I underftood, who had been there: 
For I had giv'n the key to none, but one: 
Itmuftbehe. Tour heart was dull, I fear. 
Indeed a flack and fleepie ftate of minde 
Did oft poflefle me, fo that when I pray'd, 
Though my lips went, my heart did ftay behinde. 
But all my fcores were by another paid, 
Who took the debt upon him. Truly, Friend, 
For ought I hear e, your Mafter Jhows to you 
More favour then you wot of Mar\ the end. 
The Font did cnely, what was old, renew : 
The Caldron fuppled, what was grown too hard: 
The Thorns did quic\en, what was grozvn too dull; 
All did but fir ive to mend, what you had marred. 
Wherefore be cheered, andpraife him to the full 
Each day, each houre, each moment of the wee\, 
Who fain would have you be, new, tender, quic\. 

H 1 

fl Mans medley. 

'Eark, how the birds do flng, 

And woods do ring. 
All creatures have their joy: and man hath his. 
Yet if we rightly meafure, 

Mans joy and pleafure 
Rather hereafter, then in prefent, is. 

F 2 To 

124 The Church. 

To this life things of fenfe 

Make their pretence: 
In th'other Angels have a right by birth : 
Man ties them both alone, 
And makes them one, 
With th'one hand touching heav'n,with th'other earth. 

In foul he mounts and flies, 
In flefh he dies. 
He wears a ftufFe whofe thread is courfe and round, 
But trimm'd with curious lace, 
And fhould take place 
After the trimming,not the ftufFe and ground. 

Not, that he may not here 
Tafte of the cheer, 
But as birds drink, and ftraight lift up their head , 
So mult he ftp and think 
Of better drink 
He may attain to, after he is dead. 

But as his joyes are double; 
So is his trouble. 
He hath two winters, other things but one: 
Both frofls and thoughts do nip, 
And bite his lip ; 
And he of all things fears two deaths alone. 

Yet ev*n the greateft griefs 
May be reliefs, 
Could he but take them right, and in their wayes. 
Happie is he, whofe heart 
Hath found the art 
To turn his double pains to double praife. 

1 The 

The Church. 125 

% The Storm. 

IF as the windes and waters here below 
Do flie and flow, 
My fighs and tears as buiie were above; 

Sure they would move 
And much affec~l thee, as tempeftuous times 
Amaze poore mortals, and object their crimes. 

Starres have their ftorms, ev'n in a high degree , 
As well as we. 

A throbbing confcience fpurred by remorfe 

Hath aftrange force: 

It quits the earth, and mounting more and more, 

Dares to aflault thee, and befiege thy doore. 

There it Hands knocking, to thy muficks wrong, 
And drowns the fong. 

Glorie and honour are fet by till it 

An anfwer get. 

Poets have wrong'd poore ftorms : fuch dayes are beft; 

They purge the aire without, within the breaft. 

f Paradife. 

IBlefTe thee, Lord , becaufe I grow 
Among thy trees , which in a row 
To thee both fruit and order ow. 

What open force, or hidden charm 
Can blaft my fruit, or bring me harm, 
While the inclofure is thine a r m? 

F 3 Inclofe 

126 The Church. 

Inclofe me ftill for fear I start. 
Be to me rather fharp and tart, 
Then let me want thy hand & art. 

When thou doft greater judgements spare, 
And with thy knife but prune and pare, 
Ev'n fruitfull trees more fruitfull are. 

Such fharpnes mows the fweeteft frend : 
Such cuttings rather heal then rend: 
And fuch beginnings touch their end. 

% The Method. 

j-*Oore heart, lament. 
For fince thy God refufeth ftill, 
There is fome rub, fome difcontent, 

Which cools his will. 

Thy Father could 
Quickly effect, what thou doll move; 
For he is Power: and fure he would-, 

For he is Love. 

Go fearch this thing, 
Tumble thy breaft, and turn thy book. 
If thou hadft loft a glove or ring, 

Wouldft thou not look £ 

What do I fee 
Written above there? Yefterday 
I did behave me carelejly, 

When I did pray. 


The Cburcb. 127 

And fhould Gods eare 
To fuch indifferents chained be, 
Who do not their own motions heare? 

Is God lefTe free ? 

But flay! what's there? 
Late when I would have fomething done, 
I had a motion to forbear, 

Tet I went on. 

And fhould Gods eare, 
Which needs not man, be ty'd to thofe 
Who heare not him, but quickly heare 

His utter foes ? 

Then once more pray: 
Down with thy knees, up with thy voice. 
Seek pardon firft, and God will fay, 

Glad heart rejoyce. 

% Divinitie. 

AS men, for fear the ilarres lhould fleep and nod, 
And trip at night, have ipheres fuppli'd; 
As if a ftarre were duller then a clod, 

Which knows his way without a guide : 

Juft fo the other heav'n they alfo ferve, 

Divinities tranfcendent skie: 
Which with the edge of wit they cut and carve. 

Reafon triumphs, and faith lies by. 

Could not that wifdome, which firft broacht the wine, 
Have thicken'd it with definitions ? 

And jagg'd his feamlefTe coat, had that been fine, 
With curious queltions and divifions? 

F 4 But 

128 The Church. 

But all the doctrine, which he taught and gave, 

Was cleare as heav'n, from whence it came 

At lead thofe beams of truth, which onely fave, 
SurpaiTe in brightnefle any flame. 

Love God, and love your neighbour, Watcb and pray. 

'Do as ye would be done unto. 
dark inftruclions; ev'n as dark as day! 

Who can thefe Gordian knots undo? 

But he doth bid us take his bloud for wine. 

Bid what he pleafe; yet I am fure, 
To take and tafte what he doth there deligne, 

Is all that faves, and not obfeure. 

Then burn thy Epicycles, foolifh man; 

Break all thy fpheres, and fave thy head. 
Faith needs no ftaffe of flefh, but ftoutly can 

To heav'n alone both go, and leade. 

Ephef. 4. 30. 
Grieve not the Holy Spirit , &c. 

ANd art thou grieved, fweet and facred Dove, 
When I am fowre, 
And crofle thy love? 
Grieved for me? the God of ftrength and power 
Griev'd for a worm, which when I tread, 
I pafle away and leave it dead? 


The Church. 129 

Then weep mine eyes, the God of love doth grieve: 
Weep foolifh heart, 
And weeping live: 
For death is drie as dull. Yet if ye part, 
End as the night, whofe fable hue 
Your finnes exprefTe;melt into dew. 

When fawcie mirth fhall knock or call at doore, 
Cry out, Get hence, 
Or cry no more. 
Almightie God doth grieve,he puts on fenfe : 
I finne not to my grief alone, 
But to my Gods too; he doth grone. 

Oh take thy lute, and tune it to a ftrain, 
Which may with thee 
All day complain. 
There can no difcord but in ceafmg be. 

Marbles can weep; and furely firings 
More bowels have, then fuch hard things. 

Lord, I adjudge my felf to tears and grief, 
Ev'n endlefle tears 
Without relief. 
If a cleare fpring for me no time forbears, 
But runnes, although I be not drie; 
I am"no Cryftall, what fhall I? 

Yet if I wail not ftill, fince ftill to wail 
Nature denies; 
And flefh would fail, 
If my deferts were matters of mine eyes: 

Lord, pardon, for thy fonne makes good 
My want of tears with flore of bloud. 

F 5 1 The 

130 The Church. 

^f The Familie. 

WHat doth this noife of thoughts within my heart 
What do thefe loud complaints and pulling fears, 
As if there were no rule or eares? 

But, Lord, the houfe and familie are thine, 
Though fome of them repine. 
Turn out thefe wranglers, which defile thy feat: 
For where thou dwelleft all is neat. 

Firft Peace and Silence all difputes controll, 

Then Order plaies the foul; 
And giving all things their fet forms and houres, 
Makes of wilde woods fweet walks and bowres. 

Humble Obedience neare the doore doth fland, 

Expecting a command: 
Then whom in waiting nothing feems more flow, 
Nothing more quick when fhe doth go. 

Joyes oft are there, and griefs as oft as joyes; 

But griefs without a noife: 
Yet fpeak they louder, then diftemper'd fears. 
What is fo fhrill as filent tears ? 

This is thy houfe, with thefe it doth abound: 
And where thefe are not found, 
Perhaps thou com'ft fometimes, and for a day; 
But not to make a conftant flay. 

$ Tk- 

The Church. 1 31 

^f The Size. 

\^Ontent thee, greedie heart. 
Modeft and moderate joyes to thofe, that have 
Title to more hereafter when they part, 
Are palling brave. 
Let th' upper fprings into the low 
Defcend and fall, and thou doft flow. 

What though fome have a fraught 
Of cloves and nutmegs, and in cinamon fail; 
Jf thou haft wherewithall to fpice a draught, 
When griefs prevail ; 
And for the future time art heir 
To th' Ille of fpices ? Is't not fair? 

To be in both worlds full 
Is more then God was, who was hungrie here. 
Wouldft thou his laws of falling difanull? 
Enact good cheer? 
Lay out thy joy, yet hope to fave it? 
Wouldft thou both eat thy cake,and have it/ 

Great joyes are all at once; 
But little do referve themfelves for more: 
Thofe have their hopes ;thefe what they have renounce . 
And live on fcore: 
Thofe are at home; thefe journey ftill, 
And meet the reft on Sions hill. 

Thy Saviour fentenc'd joy, 
And in the flelh condemn'd it as unfit, 
At leaft in lump: for fuch doth oft deftroy; 
Whereas a bit 
Doth tice us on to hopes of more, 
And for the prefent health reftore. 

132 7 be Church. 

A Chriftians ftate and cafe 
Is not a corpulent, but a thinne and (pare, 
Vet active flrength: whole long and bonie face 
Content and care 
Do feem to equally divide, 
Like a pretender,not a bride. 

Wherefore fit down, good heart; 

Grafp not at much, for fear thou lofcft all. 

If comforts fell according to defert, 

They would great frofts and fnows deitroy : 
For wc mould count,Since the lafi joy. 

Xhen clofe again the feam, 
Which thou haft open'd : do not fpread thy robe 
In hope of great things. Call to minde thv dream, 
An earthly globe, 
On whofe meridian was engraven, 
Thefe feas are tears ^and heaven the haver.. 

^| Artillerie. 

AS I one ev'ning fat before my cell, 
Me thoughts a ftarre did moot into my lap. 
I rofe, and fhook my clothes,as knowing well, 
That from fmall fires comes oft not fmall mifhap. 
When fuddenly I heard one fay, 
<Do as thou ufeft, difobey, 
Expell good motions from thy breaft, 
Which have the face ofjtre.but end in reft. 

The Church. 133 

I, who had heard of mufick in the fpheres, 
But not of fpeech in ftarres, began to mufe: 
But turning to my God., whofe minifters 
The ftarres and all things are; If I refufe, 
Dread Lord, faid I, fo oft my good; 
Then I refufe not ev'n with bloud 
To wafh away my ftubborn thought: 
For I will do, or fufFer what I ought. 

But I have alfo ftarres and mooters too, 
Born where thy fervants both artilleries ufe. 
My tears and prayers night and day do wooe, 
And work up to thee; yet thou doft refufe. 
Not, but I am ( I mud fay ftill ) 
Much more oblig'd to do thy will, 
Then thou to grant mine: but becaufe 
Thy promife now hath ev'n fet thee thy laws. 

Then we are mooters both, and thou doft deigne 
To enter combate with us, and conteft 
With thine own clay. But I would parley fain: 
Shunne not my arrows, and behold my breaft. 

Yet if thou fhunneft, I am thine: 

I muft be fo, if I am mine. 

There is no articling with thee: 
I am but finite, yet thine infinitely. 


134 T& e Church. 

fT Church- rents and fchifmes. 

BRave rofe, ( alas! ) where art thou? in the chair 
Where thou didft lately fo triumph and fhine, 
A worm doth fit, whofe many feet and hair 
Are the more foul, the more thou wert divine. 
This, this hath done it, this did bite the root 
And bottome of the leaves: which when the winde 
Did once perceive, it blew them under foot, 
Where rude unhallow'd fteps do crufh and grinde 
Their beauteous glories. Onely fhreds of thee, 
And thofe all bitten, in thy chair j fee. 

Why doth my Mother blufh? is fhe the rofe, 
And lhows it fo? indeed Chrifls precious bloud 
Gave you a colour once; which when your foes 
Thought to let out, the bleeding did you good, 
And made you look much frefher then before. 
But when debates and fretting jealoufies 
Did worm and work within you more and more, 
Your colour faded, and calamities 

Turned your ruddie into pale and bleak: 
Your health and beautie both began to break. 

Then did your fev'rall parts unloofe and ftart: 
Which when your neighbours faw,like a north-winde, 
They rufhed in, and call them in the dirt 
Where Pagans tread. O Mother deare and kinde, 
Where fhall I get me eyes enough to weep, 
As many eyes as ftarres P fmce it is night, 
And much of Afia and Europe fa ft afleep, 
And ev'n all Africk; would at leaft I might 

With thefe two poore ones lick up all the dew, 
Which falls by night, and pour it out for you! 

f Juftice. 

The Church. 135 

f Juftice. 

ODreadfull Juftice,what a fright and terrour 
Waft thou of old, 
When finne and errour 
Did (how and fhape thy looks to me, 
And through their glafle difcolour thee! 
He that did but look up, was proud and bold. 

The dimes of thy ballance feem'd to gape, 

Like two great pits; 
The beam and fcape 
Did like fome tort'ring engine (how: 
Thy hand above did burn and glow, 
Danting the ftouteft hearts, the proudeft wits. 

But now that Chrifts pure vail prefents the fight, 
I fee no fears : 
Thy hand is white, 
Thy fcales like buckets,which attend 
And interchangeably defcend , 
Lifting to heaven from this well of tears. 

For where before thou ftill didft call on me 
Now I ftill touch 
And harp on thee. 
Gods promifes have made thee mine; 
Why mould I juftice now decline f 
Againft me there is none. but for me much. 

^f The Pilgrimage. 

I Traveled on, feeing the hill, where lay 
My expectation. 
A long it was and weary wav. 
The gloomy cave of Defperation 
I left on th' one, and on the other fide 

The rock of Pride, And 

i3 6 

The Church. 

And To I came to phanfies medow ftrow'd 

With many a flower: 
Fain would I here have made abode, 
But I was quicken'd by my houre. 
So to cares cops I came,and there got through 
With much ado. 

That led me to the wilde of paffion, which 
Some call the wold; 
A wafted place, but fometimes rich. 
Here I was robb'd of all my gold, 
Save one good Angell, which a friend had ti'd 
Clofe to my fide. 

At length I got unto the gladfome hill, 

Where lay my hope, 
Where lay my heart ;and climbing ftill, 
When I hadgain'd the brow and top, 
A lake of brackifh waters on the ground 
Was all I found. 

With that abafh'd and ftruck with many a fling 
Of fwarming fears, 
I fell, and cry'd, Alas my King; 
Can both the way and end be tears/* 
Yet taking heart I rofe, and then perceiv'd 
I wasdeceiv'd: 

My hill was further: fo I flung away, 

Yet heard a crie 
Juft as I went, None goes that way 
And lives : If that be all,faid I, 
After fo foul a journey death is fair, 
And but a chair. 



The Church. 1 37 

% The Holdfaft. 

Threatned to obferve the Uriel: decree 

Of my deare God with all my power & might 
But I was told by one, it could not be ; 
Yet I might truft in God to be my light. 

Then will I truft, faid I, in him alone. 

Nay, ev'n to truft in him, was alfo his : 
We muft confefle,that nothing is our own. 

Then I confefle thathe my fuccour is: 

But to have nought is ours, not to confefle 

That we have nought. I ftood amaz'd at this, 
Much troubled, till I heard a friend exprefle, 

That all things were more ours by being his. 
What Adam had, and forfeited for all, 
Chrift keepeth now, who cannot fail or fall. 


^[ Complaining. 

kO not beguile my heart, 
_ ' Becaufe thou art 

My power and wifdome. Put me not to fhame, 
Becaufe lam 
Thy clay that weeps, thy duft that calls. 

Thou art the Lord of glorie ; 

The deed and ftorie 

Are both thy due : but I a filly flie, 

That live or die 

According as the weather falls. 

Art thou all juftice, Lord? 

Shows not thy word 
More attributes? Am I all throat or eye, 
To weep or crie? 
Have I no parts but thofe of grief ? 


138 The Church. 

Let not thy wrathfull power 
Afflict my houre, 
My inch of life: or let thy gracious power 
Contract my houre, 
That I may climbe and flnde relief. 

% The Difcharge. 

BUiie enquiring heart, what wouldfl thou know? 
Why doll thou prie, 
And turn, and leer, and with a licorous eye 
Look high and low; 
And in thy lookings ftretch and grow ? 

Haft thou not made thy counts, and fumm'd up all ? 

Did not thy heart 
Give up the whole, and with the whole depart ? 

Let what will fall: 
That which is paft who can recall ? 

Thy life is Gods, thy time to come is gone, 
And is his right. 

He is thy night at noon : he is at night 

Thy noon alone. 
The crop is his, for he hath fown. 

And well it was for thee,when this befell, 

That God did make 

Thy bufinefTe his, and in thy life partake: 

For thou canft tell, 
If it be his once,all is well. 

Onely theprefentis thy part and fee. 

And happy thou, 
If, though thou didft not beat thy future brow, 
Thou couldft well fee 
What prefent things requir'd of thee. 


The Church. 139 

They ask enough ; why fhouldft thou further go? 

Raife not the mudde 
Of future depths, but drink the cleare and good. 
Dig not for wo 
In times to come; for it will grow. 

Man and the prefent fit: if he provide, 

He breaks the fquare. 

This houre is mine: if for the next I care, 
I grow too wide, 
And do encroach upon deaths fide. 

For death each houre environs and furrounds. 

He that would know 
And care for future chances, cannot go 

Unto thofe grounds, 
But through a Church-yard which the bouds. 

Things prefent fhrink and die: but they that fpend 
Their thoughts and fenfe 

On future grief, do not remove it thence, 
But it extend, 
And draw the bottome out an end. 

God chains the dog till night: wilt loofe the chain, 

And wake thy forrow ? 
Wilt thou foreftall it,and now grieve to morrow, 
And then again 
Greive over frefhly all thy pain? 

Either grief will not come: or if it muft, 
Do not forecaft. 
And while it cometh, it is almoft paft, 
Away diftruft : 
My God hath promis'd^e is j uft. 

fl Praifc. 

140 The Church. 

f Praife. 

King of Glorie, King of Peace, 
I will love thee : 
And that love may never ceafe, 

I will move thee. 

Thou haft granted my requeft, 

Thou haft heard me: 

Thou didft note my working breaft, 
Thou haft fpar'd me. 

Wherefore with my utmoft art 
I will ting thee, 

And the cream of all my heart 

I will bring thee. 

Though my finnes againft me cried, 
Thou didft cleare me; 

And alone, when they replied, 

Thou didft heare me. 

Sev'n whole dayes, not one in feven, 
I will praife thee. 

In my heart, though not in heaven, 
I can raife thee. 

Thou grew'ft foft and moift with tear* , 
Thou relentedft : 

And when Juftice call'd for fears, 
Thou diffentedft. 

Small it is, in this poore fort 
To enroll thee : 

EVn eternitie is too fhort 

To extoll thee. 

f An 

The Church. 141 

f An Offering. 

COme, bring thy gift. If bleflings were as flow 
As mens returns, what would become of fools ? 
What haft thou there.? a heart? but is it pure? 
Search well and fee; for hearts have many holes. 
Yet one pure heart is nothing to beftow: 
In Chrift two natures met to be thy cure. 

O that within us hearts had propagation, 

Since many gifts do challenge many hearts ! 

Yet one, if good, may title to a number; 

And fingle things grow fruitfull by deferts. 

In publick judgements one may be a nation, 

And fence a plague, while others fleep and flumber. 

But all I fear is left thy heart difpleafe, 
As neither good, nor one : fo oft divifions 
Thy lufts have made, and not thy lufts alone; 
Thy pafTions alfo have their fet partitions. 
Thefe parcell out thy heart: recover thefe, 
And thou mayft offer many gifts in one. 

There is a balfome, or indeed a bloud, ( clofe 

Dropping from heav'n, which doth both cieanle anc 
All forts of wounds; of fuch ftrange force it is. 
Seek out this All-heal, and feek no repofe, 
Untill thou iinde and ufe it to thy good: 
Then bring thy gift; and let thy hymne be this; 

Since my fadnefTe 

Into gladneffe 
Lord thou doft convert, 

O accept 

What thou haft kept* 
As thy due defert. 


142 The Church* 

Had I many, 

Had I any, 
( For this heart is none ) 

All were thine 

And none of mine: 
Surely thine alone. 

Yet thy favour 
May give favour 

Tc this poore oblation ; 
And it raife 
To be thypraife, 

And be my falvation. 

1" Longing. 


Ith fick and famifht eyes, 
With doubling knees and weary bones, 
To thee my cries, 
To thee my grones, 
To thee my fighs, my tears afcend: 
No end ? 

My throat, my foul is hoarfe; 
My heart is wither' d like a ground 

Which thou doft curfe. 
My thoughts turn round, 
And make me giddie; Lord, I fall, 
Yet call. 

From thee all pitie flows. 
Mothers are kinde, becaufe thou art, 
And doft difpofe 
To them a part: 
Their infants, them; and they fuck thee 
More free. 

The Church. 143 

Bowels of pitie, heare! 
Lord of my foul, love of my minde, 

Bow down thine eare! 
Let not the winde 
Scatter my words, and in the fame 
Thy name! 

Look on my forrows round! 
Mark well my furnace ! O what flames, 
What heats abound! 
What griefs,what fhames! 
Confider, Lord; Lord, bow thine eare, 
And heare ! 

Lord Jefu, thou didft bow 
Thy dying head upon the tree: 
O be not now 
More dead to me ! 
Lord heare ! Shall he that made the eare y 
Not heare? 

Behold, thy duft doth ftirre, 
It moves, it creeps, it aims at thee: 
Wilt thou deferre 
To fuccour me, 
Thy pile of duft, wherein each crumme 
Sayes, Come ? 

To thee help appertains. 
Haft thou left all things to their courfe, 
And laid the reins 
Upon the horfe/* 
Is all lockt ? hath afinnersplea 
No key? 


144 The Church. 

Indeed the world's thy book, 

Where all things have their leafe aflign'd: 

Yet a meek look 

Hath interlin'd. 

Thy board is full, yet humble guefh 

Finde nefts. 

Thou tarrieft, while I die, 
And fall to nothing : thou doll reigns, 
And rule on high, 
While I remain 
In bitter grief : yet am I ftil'd 

Thy childe. 

Lord.didfl thou leave thy throne, 
Not to relieve ? how can it be , 

That thou art grown 
Thus hard to me? 
Were finne alive, good caufe there were 
To bear. 

But now both finne is dead, 
And all thy promifes live and bide. 

That wants his head; 
Thefe fpeak and chide, 
And in thy bofome poure my tears, 
As theirs. 

Lord J e s u^ heare my heart, 
Which hath been broken nowfo long, 
That ev'ry part 
Hath got a tongue! 
Thy beggars grow ; rid them away 
To day. 

"The Church. 145 

My love,my fweetnefTe, heare! 
By thefe thy feet, at which my heart 

Lies all the yeare, 
Pluck out thy dart, 
And heal my troubled breaft which cryes, 
Which dyes. 

f The Bag. 

A Way defpair ; my gracious Lord doth heare. 
Though windes and waves aflault my keel, 
He doth preferve it : he doth fteer, 
Ev'n when the boat Teems moll to reel. 
Storms are the triumph of his art: 
Well may he clofe his eyes,but not his heart. 

Haft thou not heard, that my Lord Jesus di'd ? 

Then let me tell thee a ftrange ftorie. 

The God of power, as he did ride 

In his majeftick robes of glorie, 

Refolv'd to light ; and fo one day 
He did defcend, undrefsing all the way. 

The ftarres his tire of light and rings obtain'd, 
The cloud his bow,the fire his fpear, 
The sky his azure mantle gain'd. 
And when they ask'd, what he would wear ; 
He fmil'd and faid as he did go, 

He had new clothes a making here below. 

When he was come, as travellers are wont, 

He did repair unto an inne. 

Both then,and after, many a brunt 

He did endure to cancell finne : 

And having giv'n the reft before, 
Here he gave up his life to pay our fcore. 

G But 


The Church. 

But as he was returning, there came one 
That ran upon him with a fpear. 
He, who came hither all alone, 
Bringing nor man,nor arms, nor fear, 
Receiv'd the blow upon his fide, 

And flraight he turn'd,and to his brethren cr/d, 

if ye have any thing to fend or write, 
(I have no bag, but here is room) 
Unto my fathers hands and fight 
(Beleeve me) it mall fafely come. 
That I fhall minde,what you impart; 

Look, you may put it very neare my heart. 

Or if hereafter any of my friends 

Will ufe me in this kinde,the doore 
Shall (till be open ; what he fends 
I will prefent,and fomewhat more, 
Not to his hurt. Sighs will convey 

Any thing to me. Heark defpair, away. 

^[ The Jews. 

J7 Oore nation, whofe fweet fap, and juice 
Our cyens have purloin'd, and left you drie: 
Whofe ftreams we got by the ApofUes fluce, 
And ufe in baptifme, while ye pine and die: 
Who by not keeping once, became a debter; 

And now by keeping lofe the letter: 

Oh that my prayers! mine, alas! 
Oh that fome Angel might a trumpet found; 
At which the Church falling upon her face 
Should crie fo loud, untill the trump were drown'd, 
And by that crie of her deare Lord obtain, 

That your fweet fap might come again! 



The Church. 147 

% The Collar. 

Struck the board, and cry'd, No more. 
I will abroad. 
What? fhall I ever figh and pine? 
My lines and life are free; free as the rode, 
Loofe as the winde, as large as ftore. 

Shall I be ftill in fuit? 
Have I no harveft but a thorn 
To let me bloud, and not reftore 
What I have loll with cordiall fruit? 

Sure there was wine 
Before my fighs did drie it: there was corn 
Before my tears did drown it. 
Is the yeare onely loft to me? 

Have I no bayes to crown it? 
No flowers, no garlands gay ? all blafted? 
All wafted? 
Not fo,my heart: but there is fruit, 

And thou haft hands. 
Recover all thy figh-blown age 
On double pleafures: leave thy cold difpute 
Of what is fit, and not forfake thy cage, 

Thy rope of fands. 
Which pettie thoughts have made, and made to thee 
Good cable, to enforce and draw, 

And be thy law, 
While thou didft wink and wouldft not fee... 
Away; take heed: 
I will abroad. 
Call in thy deaths head there : tie up thy fears. 
He that forbears, 
To fuit and ferve his need, 

Deferves his load. 
But as I rav'd and grew more fierce and wilde 
At every word, 
Me thoughts I heard one calling, Childe: 
Andlreply'd, My Lord. 


The Church. 
If The Glimpfe. 


Hither away delight? 
Thou cam'ft but now; wilt thou fo foon depart, 

And give me up to night? 
For many weeks of lingring pain and fmart 
But one half houre of comfort for my heart? 

Me thinks delight mould have 
More skill in mufick, and keep better time, 

Wert thou a winde or wave, 
They quickly go and come with leifer crime: 
Flowers look about, and die not in their prime. 

Thy fhort abode and flay 
Feeds not, but addes to the defire of meat. 

Lime begg'd of old ( they fay ) 
A neighbour fpring to cool his inward heat; 
Which by the fprings accefTe grew much more great. 

In hope of thee my heart 
Pickt here and there a crumme, and would not die; 

But conftant to his part 
When as my fears foretold this, did replie, 
A flender thread a gentle gueft will tie. 

Yet if the heart that wept 
Mud let thee go, return when it doth knock. 

Although thy heap be kept 
For future times, the droppings of the flock 
May oft break forth, and never break the lock. 

If I have more to fpinne, 
The wheel fhall go, fo that thy ftay be fhort. 

Thou knowft how grief and finne 
ZMfturb the work. O make me not their fport, 
Who by thy coming may be made a court! 

^1 AfTurance 

The Church. 149 

^[ Aflurance. 

O Spitefull bitter thought ! 
Bitterly fpitefull thought! Couldit thou invent 
So high a torturer Is fuch poyfon bought? 
DoubtleiTe, but in the way of punifhment, 

When wit contrives to meet with thee, 

No fuch rank poyfon can there be. 

T iou faid'ft but even now, 
That all was not fo fair, as I conceiv'd, 
Betwixt my God and me; that I allow 
And coin large hopes; but, that I was deceiv'd : 

Either the league was broke, or neare it; 

And, that I had great caufe to fear it. 

And what to this; what more 
Could poyfon, if it had a tongue, exprelfe? 
What is thy aim? wouldft thou unlock the doorc 
To cold defpairs, and gnawing penfiveneffer' 

Wouldft thouraife devils? I fee, 1 know, 

I writ thy purpofe long ago. 

But I will to my Father, 
Who heard thee fay it. O moll gracious Lord, 
If all the hope and comfort that I gather, 
Were from my felf, I had no: half a word, 

Not half a letter to oppofe 

What is objected by my foes. 

But thou art my defert: 
And in this league, which now my foes invade, 
Thou art not onely to perform thy part, 
But alfo mine; as when the league was made 
Thou didfl at once thy felf indite, 
And hold my hand, while I d ; d write. 

G 3 Wherefore 

150 The Church. 

Wherefore if thou canft fail, 

Then can thy truth and I: but while rocks ftand, 

And rivers ftirre, thou canft not fhrink or quail : 

Yea, when both rocks and all things mall disband, 

Then fhalt thou be my rock and tower, 

And make their ruine praife thy power. 

Now foolifh thought go on, 
Spin out thy thread, and make thereof a coat 
To hide thy fhame : for thou haft caft a bone 
Which bounds on thee, and will not down thy throat: 
What for it felf love once began, 
Now love and truth will end in man. 

f The Call. 

COme, my Way, my Truth, my Life; 
Such a Way, as gives us breath: 
Such a Truth, as ends all ftrife : 
And fuch a Life, as killeth death. 

Come, my Light, my Feaft, my Strength : 
Such a Light, as mows a feaft: 
Such a Feaft, as mends in length: 
Such a Strength, as makes his gueft. 

Come, my Joy, my Love, my Heart: 
Such a Joy, as none can move: 
Such a Love, as none can part: 
Such a Heart, as joyes in love. 

f Clafping 

The Church. 151 

^[ Clafping of hands. 

LOrd, thou art mine , and I am thine, 
If mine I am : and thine much more, 

Then I or ought, or can be mine. 

Yet to be thine, doth me reftore; 

So that again I now am mine, 

And with advantage mine the more. 

Since this being mine, brings with it thine, 

And thou with me doit thee reftore. 

If I without thee would be mine, 
I neither mould be mine nor thine. 

Lord, I am thine, and thou art mine: 
So mine thou art, that fomething more 
I may prefume thee mine, then thine. 
For thou didft fufrer to reftore 
Not thee, but me, and to be mine: 
And with advantage mine the more, 
Since thou in death waft none of thine, 
Yet then as mine didft me reftore. 

Obe mine ftill! ftill make me thine! 

Or rather make no Thine and Mine! 

f Praife. 

LOrd, I will mean and fpeak thy praife, 
Thy praife alone. 
My bufie heart mail fpin it all my dayes: 
And when it ftops for want of ftore, 
Then win i wring it with a figh or grone, 
That thou mayftyet have more. 

G 4 When 

152 The Church. 

When thou doft favour any aclion, 
It runnes, it flies : 
All things concurre to give it a perfection. 

That which had but two legs before, 
When thou doll blefTe,hath twelve: one wheel doth rife 
To twentie then, or more. 

But when thou doft on bufmefle blow, 
It hangs, it clogs: 
Not all the teams of Albion in a row 

Can hale or draw it out of doore. 
Legs are but flumps, and Pharaohs wheels but logs, 
And ilruggling hinders more. 

Thoufands of things do thee employ 
In ruling all 
This fpacious globe: Angels mufl have their joy, 

Devils their rod, the fea his more, 
The windes their flint: and yet when I did call, 
Thou heardfl my call, and more. 

I have not loft one fingle tear: 

But when mine eyes 
Did weep to heav'n, they found a bottle there 

( As we have boxes for the poore) 
Readie to take them in; yet of a fize 

That would contain much more. 

But after thou hadft dipt a drop 

From thy right eye, 
(Which there did hang like ftreamers neare the top 

Of fome fair church to fhow the fore 
And bloudie battell which thou once didft trie ) 
The glaffe was full and more. 

Wii ere fore 

The Church. 153 

Wherefore I fing. Yet fince my heart, 

Though prefs'd,runnes thin; 
O that I might fome other hearts convert, 

And fo take up at ufe good ftore: 
That to thy cherts there might be coming in 
Both all my praife, and more ! 

^[ Jofephs coat. 

"WWOunded I fing, tormented I indite, 

Thrown down I fall into a bed, and reft: 
Sorrow hath chang'd its note : fuch is his will, 
Who changeth all things, as him pleafeth beft. 

For well he knows, if but one grief and fmart 
Among my many had his full career, 
Sure it would carrie with it ev'n my heart, 
And both would runne untill they found a biere 

To fetch the bodie; both being due to grief. 
But he hathfpoil'd the race; and giv'n to anguifh 
One of Joyes coats, ticing it with relief 
To linger in me, and together languifh. 

I live to (hew his power, who once did bring 

My joyes to weep, and now my griefs xofing. 

S The Pulley. 


Hen God at fir ft made man, 
Having a glafTe of blefiings ftanding by; 
Let us ffaid he ) poure on him all we can: 
Let the worlds riches, which difperfed lie, 

Contract into a fpan. 

G 5 So 

IJ4 The Church. 

So ftrength firft made a way; 
Then beautieflow'd, then wifdome,honour,pleafure: 
When almoft all was out, God made a ftay, 
Perceiving that alone of all his treafure 

Reft in the bottome lay. 

For if I mould (faid he) 
Bellow this jewell alfo on my creature , 
He would adore my gifts in ftead of me, 
And reft in Nature, not the God of Nature. 

So both mould lofers be. 

Yet let him keep the reft, 
But keep them with repining reftlefneile: 
Let him be rich and wearie, that at leaft, 
If goodnelTe leade him not, yet wearinefle 

May tofle him to my breaft. 

11 The Priefthood. 

I Left Order, which in power doft fo excell, 
JThat with th'one hand thou lifteft to the sky, 
And with the other throweft down to hell 
In thy j uft cenfures ; fain would I draw nigh, 
Fain put thee on, exchanging my lay-fword 
For that of th' holy word 

But thou art fire, facred and hallow'd fire; 
And I but earth and clay: fhould I prefume 
To wear thy habit, the fevere attire 
My flender compositions might conlume. 
I am both foul and brittle ; much unfit 
To deal in holy Writ. 


The Cburcb. 155 

Yet have I often feen,by cunning hand 

And force of fire,what curious things are made 

Of wretched earth. Where once I fcorn'd tofland, 

That earth is fitted by the fire and trade 

Of skilfull artifls, for the boards of thofe 

Who make the braveft mows. 

But fince thofe great ones , be they ne're fo great, 
Come from the earth,from whence thofe veffels come; 
So that at once both feeder, dim, and meat 
Have one beginning and one finall fumme: 
I do not greatly wonder at the fight, 

If earth in earth delight. 

But th' holy men of God fuch veffels are, 
As ferve him up, who all the world commands: 
When God vouchfafeth to become our fare, 
Their hands conuey him, who conveys their hands. 
O what pure things , moll pure mull thofe things be, 
Who bring my God to me ! 

Wherefore I dare not, I, put forth my hand 
To hold the Ark, although it feem to fhake 
Through th'old finnes and new doctrines of our land. 
Onely, fince God doth often veiTels make 
Of lowly matter for high ufes meet, 

I throw me at his feet. 

There will I lie, untill my Maker feek 
For fome mean fluffe whereon to fhow his skill: 
Then is my time. The diilance of the meek 
Doth flatter power. Left good come fhort of ill 
In praifing might, the poore do by fubmifiion 
What pride by oppofition. 

«T The 

156 The Church. 

^[ The Search, 

"y \7Hither, O, whither art thou fled, 
My Lord, my Love ? 

My fearches are my daily bread ; 
Yet never prove. 

My knees pierce th'earth, mine eies the side; 

And yetthefphere 
And centre both to me denie 

That thou art there. 

Yet can I mark how herbs below 

Grow green and gay, 

As if to meet thee they did know, 
While I decay. 

Yet can I mark how ftarres above 
Simper and fhine, 

As having keyes unto thy love, 

While poore I pine. 

I fent a figh to feek thee out, 

Deep drawn in pain, 

Wing'd like an arrow: but my fcout 
Returns in vain. 

I tun'd another ( having flore) 

Becaufe the fearch was dumbe before: 

But all was one. 

Lord, doft thou fome new fabrick mold 
Which favour winnes, 

And keeps thee prefent, leaving th* old 
Unto their finnes ? 


The Church. 157 

Where is my God? what hidden place 

Conceals thee ftill ? 
What covert dare eclipfe thy face ? 

Is it thy will ? 

O let not that of any thing; 

Let rather braffe, 
Or fteel, or mountains be thy ring, 

And I will pafTe. 

Thy will fuch an intrenching is, 

AspafTeth thought: 
To it all ftrength, all fubtilties 

Are things of nought. 

Thy will fuch a ftrange diftance is, 

As that to it 
Eaft and Weil touch, the poles do kifTe, 

And parallels meet. 

Since then my grief mull be as large, 

As is thy fpace, 
Thy diftance from me; fee my charge, 

Lord, fee my cafe. 

O take thefe barres, thefe lengths away ; 

Turn, and reftore me: 
Bs not Almightie, let me fay, 

Againft, but for me. 

When thou doft turn, and wilt be neare; 

What edge fo keen, 
What point fo piercing can appeare 

To come between? 

For as thy abfence doth excell 

All diftance known: 
So doth thy nearenelfe bear the bell, 

Making two one. ^ Grief 

r 5 8 

'The Church. 

% Grief. 

OWho will give me tears? Come all ye fprings, 
Dwell in my head & eyes : come clouds,& rain : 
My grief hath need of all the watry things, 
That nature hath produc'd. Let ev'ry vein 
Suck up a river to fupply mine eyes, 
My weary weeping eyes too drie for me, 
UnleiTe they get new conduits,new fupplies 
To bear them out,and with my ilate agree. 
What are two fhallow foords,two little fpouts 
Of a lcfTe world? the greater is but fmall, 
A narrow cupboard for my griefs and doubts, 
Which want provifion in the midft of all. 
Verfes,ye are too fine a thing, too wife 
For my rough forrows : ceafe,be dumbe and mute, 
Give up your feet and running to mine eyes, 
And keep your meafures for fome lovers lute, 
Whofe grief allows him mufick and a ryme : 
For mine excludes both mcifure,tune, and time. 
Alas, my God! 

1" TheCroffe. 


Hat is this ftrange and uncouth thing: 
To make me figh, and feek, and faint, and die, 
Untill I had fome place, where I might fing, 

And ferve thee ; and not onely I, 
But all my wealth,and familie might combine 
To fet thy honour up,as our defigne. 


The Church. i 59 

And then when after much delay, 
Much wraftling,many a combate, this deare end, 
So much defir'd, is giv'n, to take away 

My power to ferve thee ; to unbend 
All my abilities, my defignes confound, 
And lay my threatnings bleeding on the ground. 

One ague dwelleth in my bones, 
Another in my foul (the memorie 
What I would do for thee,if once my grones 

Could be allow'd for harmonie) 
I am in all a weak difabled thing , 
Save in the fight thereof, where ftrength doth fling. 

Befides,things fort not to my will, 
Ev'n when my will doth ftudie thy renown: 
Thou turneft th' edge of all things on me hull, 

Taking me up to throw me down: 
So that, ev'n when my hopes feem to be fped, 
I am to grief alive, to them as dead. 

To have my aim, and yet to be 
Farther from it then when I bent my bow ; 
To make my hopes my torture, and the fee 

Of all my woes another wo, 
Isinthemidft of delicates to need, 
And ev'n in Paradife to be a weed. 

Ah my deare Father, eafe my fmart! 
Thefe contrarieties crufh me : thefe crofTe a6lions 
Doe winde a rope about, and cut my heart: 

And yet fince thefe thy contradictions 
Are properly a crofTe felt by thy fonne, 
With but foure words,my words, Thy will be done. 

Si The 

160 The Church. 

1 The Flower. 

xlOw frefh, O Lord,how fweetand clean 
Are thy returns ! ev'n as the flowers in fpring; 

To which, befides their own demean, 
The late-paft frofts tributes of pleafure bring. 
Grief melts away 
Like fnow in May, 
As if there were no fuch cold thing. 

Who would have thought my fhriverd heart 
Could have recover'd greennefle? It was gone 
Quite under ground ; as flowers depart 
To fee their mother-root, when they have blown ; 
Where they together 
All the hard weather, 
Dead to the world, keep houfe unknown* 

Thefe are thy wonders,Lord of power, 
Killing and quickning,bringing down to hell 

And up to heaven in an houre; 
Making a chiming of a pafling-bell. 
We fay amifle, 
This or that is: 
Thy word is all, if we could fpell. 

O that I once pall changing were, 
Fafl in thy Paradife, where no flower can wither! 

Many a fpring I moot up fair, 
Offring at heav'n, growing and groning thither: 
Nor doth my flower 
Want a fpring-fhowre, 
Myfinnesand I joining together: 


The Church. 161 

But while I grow in a flraight line, 
Still upwards bent, as if heav'n were mine own, 

Thy anger comes, and I decline: 
Whatfroft to thatrwhat pole is not the zone, 
Where all things burn, 
When thou doft turn, 
And the leaft frown of thine is mown? 

And now in age I bud again, 
After fo many deaths I live and write; 

I once more fmell the dew and rain, 
And relifhverfing : O my onely light, 
It cannot be 
That I am he 
On whom thy tempefts fell all night. 

Thefe are thy wonders,Lord of love, 
To make us fee we are but flowers that glide : 

Which when we once can finde and prove, 
Thou haft a garden for us, where to bide. 
Who would be more, 
Swelling through ftore, 
Forfeit their Paradife by their pride. 

5| Dotage. 

FAlfe glozing pleafures,casks of happinefle, 
Foolifh night-fires, womens and childrens wifhct, 
Chafes in Arras , guilded emptinefTe, 
Shadows well mounted, dreams in a career, 
Embroider'd lyes,nothing between two dimes; 

Thefe are the pleafures here. 
True earneft forrows, rooted miferies, 
Anguifh in grain,vexations ripe and blown, 
Sure-footed griefs , folid calamities, 
Plain demonstrations, evident and cleare, 
Fetching their proofs ev'n from the very bone; 

Thefe are the forrows here. But 

1 62 The Church. 

But oh the folly of diftracled men, 
Who griefs in earneft, joyesin jeftpurfue; 

Preferring, like brute beafts, a lothfome den 
Before a court, ev'n that above fo cleare, 
Where are no forrows, but delights more true, 
Then miferies are here! 

f The Sonne. 

LEt forrain nations of their language boaft, 
What fine varietie each tongue affords: 
I like our language, as our men and coaft: 
Who cannot drefle it well, want wit,not words. 
How neatly doe we give one onely name 
To parents iffue and the funnes bright ftarre! 
A fonne is light and fruit; a fruitfull flame 
Chafing the fathers dimnefle, carri'd farre 
From the firft man in th* Eaft,to frefh and new 
Weftern difcov'ries of pofteritie. 
So in one word our Lords humilitie 
We turn upon him in a fenfe moil true: 

For what Chriil once in humblenefTe began, 
We him in glorie call, The Sonne of Man, 

T A true Hymne. 

xSjL Y joy, my life,my crown! 
My heart was meaning all the day, 

Somewhat it fain would fay: 
And ftill it runneth mutt'ring up and down 
With onely this., My joy, my life, my crown. 

The Church. 163 

Yet flight not thefe few words: 
If truly faid, they may take part 

Among the beft in art. 
The fmenefTe which a hymne or pfalme affords, 
Is,when the foul unto the lines accords. 

He who craves all the minde, 
And all the foul, and ftrength, and time, 

If the words onely ryme, 
Juftly complains, that fomewhat is behinde 
To make his verfe,or write a hymne in kinde. 

Whereas if th' heart be moved, 
Although the verfe be fomewhat fcant, 

God doth fupplie the want. 
As when th' heart fayes (fighing to be approved) 
O, could I love ! and flops: God writeth, Loved. 

^[ The Anfwer. 

MY comforts drop and melt away likefnow: 
I fhake my head, and all the thoughts and ends, 
Which my fierce youth did bandie, fall and flow 
Like leaves about me; or like fummer friends, 
Flyesof eftates and funne-fhine. But to all, 
Who think me eager,hot,and undertaking, 
But in my profecutions flack and fmall; 
As a young exhalation, newly waking, 
Scorns his fir ft bed of dirt, and means the sky; 
But cooling by the way,grows purfie and flow, 
And fetling to a cloud, doth live and die 
In that dark ftate of tears: to all, that fo 

Show me,and fet me. I have one reply, 
Which they that know the reft, know more then I 

164 The Church. 

^[ A Dialogue- An theme. 
Cbrifiian. Death. 

Chr. A l as > poore Death, where is thy glorie? 
Where is thy famous force, thy ancient fling? 

D e a . Alas poore mortal!, void of ft or ie, 

Gofpeii and reade hozv I have \UTdthy King. 

Cbr. Poore death ! and who was hurt thereby? 
Thy curfe being laid on him, makes thee accurft. 

Dea. Let lof erst al\: yet thou Jh alt die \ (worfL 

Thefe arms jbaii crujb thee. Chr. Spare not,do thy 
I mall be one day better then before : 
Thou fo much worfe,that thou fhalt be no more. 

f The Water-courfe. 

THou who doft dwell and linger here below, 
Since the condition of this world is frail, 
Where of all plants ami&ions fooneft grow; 
If troubles overtake thee, do not wail: 

For who can look for lefTe, that loveth < <, .£ 

But rather turn the pipe, and waters courfe 
To ferve thy fmnes, and furnifh thee with ftore 
Of fov'raigne tears, fpringing from true remorfe: 
That fo in pureneffe thou mayft him adore, 

Who gives to man, as he fees fit { Damna°don. 

% Self- 

^he Church. 165 

^[ Self-condemnation. 

1 Hou who condemneft Jewifh hate, 
For choofing Barabbas a murderer 
Before the Lord of glorie; 
Look back upon thine own eftate, 
Call home thine eye,( that bufie wanderer ) 
That choice may be thy Itorie. 

He that doth love, and love amifTe 
This worlds delights before true Chriftian joy, 
Hath made a Jewifh choice : 
The world an ancient murderer is; 
Thoufands of fouls it hath and doth deftroy 
With her enchanting voice. 

He that hath made a forrie wedding 
Between his foul and gold, and hath preferr'd 
Falfe gain before the true, 
Hath done what he condemnes in reading: 
For he hath fold for money his deare Lord, 
And is a Judas-Jew. 

Thus we prevent the la ft great day, 
And judge our felves. That light, which fin &pafTion 
Did before dimme and choke, 
When once thofe fnuffes are ta'ne away, 
Shines bright and cleare,ev'n unto condemnation, 
Without excufe orcloke. 

f Bitter-fweet. 

AH my deare angrie Lord, 
Since thou doft love, yet ilrike; 
Caft down, yet help afford; 
Sure I will do the like. 

1 66 The Church. 

I will complain, yet praife; 
I will bewail, approve: 
And all my fowre-fweet dayes 
I will lament,and love. 


^f The Glance. 

Hen firft thy fweet and gracious eye 
Vouchfaf d ev'n in the midft of youth and night 
To look upon me, who before did lie 

Weltring in fmne; 
I felt a fugred ftrange delight, 
Pairing all cordials made by any art, 
Bedew, embalme, and overrunne my heart* 
And take it in. 

Since that time many a bitter ftorm 
Hy foul hath felt,ev'n able to deftroy, 
Had the malicious and ill-meaning harm 
His fwing and fway: 
But frill thy fweet originall joy 
Sprung from thine eye, did work within my foul, 
And furging griefs, when they grew bold, controll, 
And got the day. 

If thy firft glance fo powerfull be, 
A mirth but open'd and feal'd up again; 
What wonders ihall we feel, when we fhall fee 
Thy full-ey'd love! 
When thou fhalt look us out of pain, 
And one afpect of thine fpend in delight 
More then a thoufand funnes disburfe in light, 
In heav'n above. 

f The 

The Church. 167 

^[ The 23 Pfalme. 

THe God of love my fhepherd is. 
And he that doth me feed: 
While he is mine, and I am his, 
What can I want or need? 

He leads me to the tender grafle, 
Where I both feed and reft; 

Then to the ftreams that gently paffe: 
In both I have the beft. 

Or if I ftray, he doth convert 

And bring my minde in frame; 

And all this not for my defert, 
But for his holy name. 

Yea, in deaths fhadie black abode 
Well may I walk, not fear: 

For thou art with me; and thy rod 
To guide, thy ftaffe to bear. 

Nay, thou doft make me fit and dine, 
Ev'n in my enemies fight: 

My head with oyl,my cup with wine 
Runnes over day and night. 

Surely thy fweet and wondrous love 
Shall meafure all my dayes; 

And as it never fhall remove, 

So neither fhall my praife. 

% Mary 

1 68 Ihe Church. 

^[ Marie Magdalene. 

' Hen blefTed Marie wip'd her Saviours feet, 


( Whofe precepts fhe had trampled on before) 
And wore them for a Jewell on her head, 

Shewing his fteps mould be the ftreet, 

Wherein fhe henceforth evermore 
With penfive humblenefTe would live and tread: 

She being ftain'd her felf, why did fhe ftrive 
To make him clean, who could not be denTd? 
Why kept fhe not her tears for her own faults, 

And not his feet? Though we could dive 

In tears like feas, our finnes are pil'd 
Deeper then they,in words, and works, and thoughts. 

Deare foul,fhe knew who did vouchfafe and deigne 
To bear her filth; and that her finnes did dafh 
Ev'n God himfelf : wherefore fhe was not loth, 

As fhe had brought wherewith to ftain, 

So to bring in wherewith to wafh: 
And yet in warning one, fhe warned both. 

<j[ Aaron. 

£"1 dinette on the head, 
Light and perfections on the breaft 
Harmonious bells below, raifmg the dead 
To leade them unto life and reft. 

Thus are true Aarons dreft. 

ProfanenefTe in my head, 
Defects and darkneffe in my breaft, 
A noife of paffions ringing me for dead 
Unto a place where is no reft, 

Poore prieft thus am I dreft. 


The Church. 169 

Onely another head 
I have,another heart and breaft, 
Another mufick, making live not dead, 

Without whom I could have no reft: 
In him I am well dreft. 

Chrift is my onely head, 
My alone onely heart and breaft, 
My onely mufick, ftriking me ev'n dead ; 
That to the old man I may reft, 

And be in him new dreft. 

So holy in my head, 
Perfect and light in my deare breaft, 
My doctrine tun'd by Chrift, ( who is not dead, 
But lives in me while I do reilj 

Come people; Aaron's dreft. 

IT The Odour, 2.Cor.2. 

HOw fweetly doth My Mafter found! My Majier) 
As Amber-greefe leaves a rich fent 

Unto the tafter: 
So do thefe words a fweet content, 
An orientall fragrancie, My Majier. 

With thefe all day I do perfume my minde, 

My minde ev'n thruft into them both: 

That I might finde 
What cordials make this curious broth, 

This broth of fmells, that feeds and fats my minde. 

My Majier, fhall I fpeak ? O that to thee 
Myfervant were a little fo, 

As flefh maybe; 
That thefe two words might creep & grow 
To fome degree of fpicinefie to thee ! 

H Then 

170 The Church. 

Then fhould the Pomander, which was before 
A fpeaking fweet, mend by reflection, 

And tell me more: 
For pardon of my imperfection, 

Would warm and work it fweeter then before, 

For when My Mafter, which alone is fweet, 

And ev'n in my unworthineffe pleafing, 

Shall call and meet, 
Myfervant, as thee not difpleafing, 

That call is but the breathing of the fweet. 

This breathing would with gains by fweetning me 
(As fweet things traffick when they meet) 

Return to thee. 
And fo this new commerce and fweet 

Should all my life employ, and bufie me. 

f The Foil. 

If we could fee below 
The fphere of vertue, and each mining grace 

As plainly as that above doth fhow; 
This were the better skie, the brighter place. 

God hath made ftarres the foil 
To fet off vertues; griefs to fet off finning: 
Yet in this wretched world we toil, 
As if grief were not foul, nor vertue winning. 

^[ The Forerunners. 

THe harbingers are come. See, fee their mark; 
White is their colour, and behold my head. 
But muft they have my brain ? mull they difpark 
Thofe fparkling notions, which therein were bred ? 

Muft dulneffe turn me to a clod/* 
Yet have they left me, Thou artftillmy God. 

The Church. iji 

Good men ye be, to leave me my beft room, 
Ev'n all my heart, and what is lodged there : 
I paffe not, I, what of the reft become, 
So Thou art JIM my God, be out of fear, 

He will be pleafed with that dittie; 
And if I pleafe him, I write fine and wittie. 

Farewell fweet phrafes, lovely metaphors. 
But will ye leave me thus/' when ye before 
Of ftews and brothels onely knew the doores, 
Then did I wafh you with my tears, and more 

Brought you to Church well dreft and clad: 
My God muft have my beft, ev'n all I had. 

Louely enchanting language, fugar-cane, 
Hony of rofes, whither wilt thou flie ? 
Hath fome fond lover tic'd thee to thy bane ? 
And wilt thou leave the Church, and love a ftie ? 

Fie, thou wilt foil thy broider'd coat, 
And hurt thy felf,and him that fings the note. 

Let foolifh lovers, if they will love dung, 
With canvas, not with arras clothe their fhame: 
Let follie fpeak in her own native tongue. 
True beautie dwells on high : ours is a flame 

But borrow'd thence to light us thither. 
Beautie and beauteous words mould go together. 

Yet if you go , I paffe not; take your way: 
For, Thou art ftillmy God, is all that ye 
Perhaps with more embellifhment can fay, 
Go birds of fpring: let winter have his fee, 

Let a bleak paleneffe chalk the doore, 
So all within be livelier then before. 

H 2 The 

172 The Church. 

% The Rofe. 

PRefle me not to take more pleafure 
In this world of fugred lies, 
And to ufe a larger meafure 

Then my Uriel, yet welcome Hze. 

Firft, there is no pleafure here: 

Colour'd griefs indeed there are, 
Blufhing woes, that look as cleare 

As if they could beautie fpare. 

Or if fuch deceits there be, 

Such delights I meant to fay; 

There are no fuch things to me, 

Who have pafs'd my right away. 

But I will not much oppofe 

Unto what you now advife: 

Onely take this gentle rofe, 

And therein my anfwer lies. 

What is fairer then a rofe ? 

What is fweeter? yetitpurgeth. 
Purgings enmitie difclofe, 

Enmitie forbearance urgeth. 

If then all that worldlings prize 

Be contracted to a rofe; 
Sweetly there indeed it lies, 

But it biteth in the clofe. 

So this flower doth judge and fentencft 
Worldly joyes to be a fcourge: 

For they all produce repentance, 
And repentance is a purge. 


The Church. 173 

But I health, not phyfick choofe: 

Onely though I you oppofe, 
Say that fairly I refufe, 

For mv anfwer is a rofe. 

^f Difcipline^ 

THrow away thy rod, 
Throw away thy wrath: 

my God, 
Take the gentle path. 

For my hearts defire 
Unto thine is bent: 

1 afpire. 
To a full confent. 

Not a word or look 
I affect to own , 

But by book : 
And thy book alone. 

Though I fail, I weep : 
Though I halt in pace, 

Yet I creep 
To the throne of grace. 

Then let wrath remove; 
Love will do the deed: 

For with love 
Stonie hearts will bleed. 

Love is fwift of foot; 
Love's a man of warre, 

And can fhootj 
And can hit from farre. 

H 3 Who 

174 Tbe Church. 

Who can fcape his bow? 
That which wrought on thee, 

Brought thee low, 
Needs mull work on me. 

Throw away thy rod; 
Though man frailties hath, 

Thou art God: 
Throw away thy wrath. 

^f The Invitation. 

COme ye hither all, whofe tafte 
Is your wafte; 
Save your coft, and mend your fare. 
God is here prepar'd and dreft, 

And the feaft, 
God, in whom all dainties are. 

Come ye hither all, whom wine 

Doth define, 

Naming you not to your good : 

Weep what ye have drunk amifTe, 

And drink this, 

Which before ye drink is bloud. 

Come ye hither all, whom pain 

Doth arraigns, 

Bringing all your finnes to fight: 

Tafte and fear not: God is here 

In this cheer, 

And on finne doth caft the fright. 

Come ye hither all, whom joy 

Doth deftroy, 

While ye graze without your bounds: 

Here is joy that drowneth quite 

Your delight, 

As a floud the lower grounds 

The Church. 175 

Come ye hither all, whofe love 
Is your dove, 

And exalts you to the skie: 

Here is love, which having breath 
Ev'nin death, 

After death can never die. 

Lord I have invited all, 
And I fhall 

Still invite, ftill call to thee : 

For it feems but juft and right 
In my fight, 

Where is all, there all fhould be. 

^[ The Banquet. 

WElcome fweet and facred cheer, 
Welcome deare; 
With me, in mc, live and dwell: 
For thy neatnefTe pafTeth fight, 

Thy delight 
PafTeth tongue to tafte or tell. 

O what fweetnefTe from the bowl 

Fills my foul, 
Such as is , and makes divine! 
Is fome ftarre (fled from the fphere) 

Melted there, 
As we fugar melt in wine ? 

Or hath fweetnefTe in the bread 

Made a head 
To fubdue the fmell of fmne ; 
Flowers,and gummes,and powders giving 

All their living, 
Lelt the enemie fhould winne ? 

H 4 Doubt 


The Church. 

DoubtleiTe, neither ftarre nor flower 

Hath the power 

Such a fweetnefTe to impart : 

Onely God, who gives perfumes, 

Flefh aflumes , 

And with it perfumes my heart. 

But as Pomanders and wood 

Still are good. 

Yet being bruis'd are better fented: 

God, to fhow how farre his love 

Could improve, 

Here, as broken, is prefented. 

When I had forgot my birth, 

And on earth 

In delights of earth was drown'd ; 

God took bloud, and needs would be 
Spilt with me, 

And fo found me on the ground. 

Having rais'd me to lookup, 
In a cup 
Sweetly he doth meet mytafte. 
But I ftill being low and fhort, 

Farre from court, 
Wine becomes a wing at laft. 

For with it alone I flic. 

To the skie : 
Where I wipe mine eyes,and fee 
What I feek, for what I fue ; 

Him I view, 
Who hath done fo much for me. 


The Church. 177 

Let the wonder of this pitie 

Be my dittie, 
And take up my lines and life : 
Hearken under pain of death, 

Hands and breath; 
Strive in this, and love the ftrife. 

% The Pofie. 

JL/Et wits conteft, 
And with their words and pofies windows fill: 

Leffe then the leaft 
Of all thy mercies, is my pofie ftill. 

This on my ring, 
This by my picture, in my book I write: 

Whether I fing, 
Or fay, or dictate, this is my delight. 

Invention reft, 
Comparifons go play, wit ufe thy will : 

Lejje then the leaft 
Of all Gods mercies, is my pofie ftill. 

f A Parodie. 

SOuls joy, when thou art gone, 
And I alone, 
Which cannot be, 
Becaufe thou doft abide with me, 
And I depend on thee ; 

Yet when thou doft fupprefle 

The cheerfulnefie 
Of thy abode, 

And in my powers not ftirre abroad, 
But leave me to my load: 


The Church. 

O what a damp and made 
Doth me invade! 
No ftormie night 
Can fo afflict or fo affright , 
As thyeclipfed light. 

Ah Lord! do not withdraw , 
Left want of aw 
Make Sinne appeare; 
And when thou doft but mine lefie cleare, 
Say, that thou art not here. 

And then what life I have, 

While Sinne doth rave* 
And falfly boaft, 
That I may feek, but thou art loft ; 

Thou and alone thou know' ft. 

O what a deadly cold 

Doth me infold! 

I half beleeve, 
That Sinne fays true: but while I grieve 
Thou com'ft and doft relieve. 

% The Elixer. 

TEach me, my God and King, 
In all things thee to fee, 
And what I do in any thing, 
To do it as for thee : 

Not rudely,as a beaft, 
To runne into an action; 
But ftill to make thee prepoffeft, 
And give it his perfection. 

A man 

The Church. ijg 

A man that looks on glaffe, 
On it may flay his eye ; 
Or if he pleafeth, through it paffe, 
And then the heav'n efpie. 

All may of thee partake: 
Nothing can be fo mean, 
Which with his tinclure (for thy fake) 
Will not grow bright and clean. 

A fervant with this claufe 
Makes drudgerie divine : 
Who fweeps a room, as for thy laws, 
Makes that and th' adtion fine. 

This is the famous ftone 
That turneth all to gold: 
For that which God doth touch and own 
Cannot for lefle be told. 

f A Wreath. 

A Wreathed garland of deferved praife, 
Of praife deferved, unto thee I give, 
I give to thee, who knoweft all my wayes, 
My crooked winding wayes, wherein I live, 
Wherein I die, not live: for life is ftraight, 
Straight as a line, and ever tends to thee, 
To thee, who art more farre above deceit, 
Then deceit feems above fimplicitie. 
Give me fimplicitie, that I may live, 
So live and like, that I may know thy wayes, 
Know them and pradtife them: then fhall I give 
For this poore wreath,give thee a crown of praife. 

II Death. 

180 The Church. 

IT Death. 

DEath,thou waft once an uncouth hideous thing, 
Nothing but bones, 
The fad effect of fadder grones : 
Thy mouth was open, but thou couldft not fing. 

For we consider'd thee as at fome fix 

Or ten yeares hence, 
After the loffe of life and fenfe, 
Flefh being turn'd to dust, and bones to fticks. 

We lookt on this fide of thee, mooting fhort ; 
Where we did finde 
The fhells of fledge fouls left behinde, 
Dry duft, which sheds no tears, but may extort. 

But fince our Saviours death did put some bloud 
Into thy face ; 
Thou art grown fair and full of grace, 
Much in requeft, much sought for, as a good. 

For we do now behold thee gay and glad. 
As as dooms-day ; 
When fouls fhall wear their new array, 
And all thy bones with beautie fhall be c'ad. 

Therefore we can go die as deep, and truft 
Half that we have 
Unto an honeft faithfull grave ; 
Making our pillows either down, or dust. 

1F Dooms- 

The Church. 1 8 1 

1F Dooms-day. 


iOme away, 
Make no delay 
Summon all the duft to rife, 
Till it ftirre, and rubbe the eyes ; 
While this member jogs the other, 
Each one whifpring, Live you brother ? 

Come away, 
Make this the day. 
Duft, alas, no mufick feels, 
But thy trumpet : then it kneels, 
As peculiar notes and {trains 
Cure Tarantulaes raging pains. 

Come away, 
O make no ftay ! 
Let the graves make their confeffion, 
Left at length they plead poiTeflion : 
Flefhes ftubbornnefTe may have 
Read that leftbn to the grave. 

Come away, 
Thy flock doth ftray. 
Some to windes their bodie lend, 
And in them may drown a friend : 
Some in noifome vapours grow 
To a plague and publick wo. 

Come away, 
Help our decay, 
Man is out of order hurl'd 
Parcel'd out to all the world. 
Lord, thy broken comfort raife, 
And the mufick fhall be praife. 

f Judge- 

1 82 "The Church. 

<([ Judgement. 

ALmightie Judge,how fhallpoore wretches brook 
Thy dreadfull look, 
Able a heart of iron to appall, 

When thou ihalt call 
For ev'ry mans peculiar book ? 

What others mean to do, I know not well; 

Yet I hearetell, 
That fome will turn thee to fome leaves therein 
So voidoffinne, 
That they in merit fhall excell. 

But I refolve, when thou lhalt call for mine, 

That to decline, 
And thruft a Teftament into thy hand : 

Let that be fcann'd. 
There thou lhalt finde my faults are thine. 

^[ Heaven. 

OWho will fhow me thofe delights on high? 
Echo. I. 

Thou Echo, thou art mortall, all men know. 

Echo. No. 

Wert thou not born among the trees and leaves? 

Echo. Leaves. 

And are there any leaves, that ftill abide ? 

Echo. Bide. 

What leaves are they? impart the matter wholly. 

Echo, Holy. 

Are holy leaves the Echo then of blifTe ? 

Echo. Yes. 

Then tell me, what is that fupreme delight? 

Echo. Light. 


The Church. 183 

iight to the minde : what mall the will enjoy ? 

Echo. jfoy. 

But are there cares and bufinefle with the pleafure? 

Echo. Leifure. 

Light, joy, and leifure; but fhall they perfever? 

JSYZv. Ever. 

^[ Love. 

LOve bade me welcome : yet my foul drew back, 
Guiltie of duft and finne. 
But quick-ey'd Love, obferving me grow flack 

From my firfl entrance in, 
Drew nearer to me,fweetly queftioning, 
If I lack'd any thing. 

A gueft, I anfwer'd, worthy to be here: 

Love faid, you fhall be he. 

I the unkinde, ungratefull? Ah my deare, 
I cannot look on thee. 

Love took my hand, and fmiling did reply, 

Who made the eyes but I? 

Truth Lord, but I have marr'd them: let my fhame 
Go where it doth deferve. 

And know you not, fayes Love, who bore the blame? 
My deare, then I will ferve. 

You muft fit down, fayes Love, and tafte my meat: 
So I did fit and eat. 

FIN 1 S. 

Glorie be to God on high, mid on earth 
peace y goodwill towards men. 


% The Church Militant. 

^^Lmightie Lord, who from thy glorious 
1 Seeft and ruleft all things ev'n as one: 
iThe fmalleft ant or atome knows thy 

' Known alfo to each minute of an houre: 
Much more do Common-weals acknowledge thee, 
And wrap their policies in thy decree, 
Complying with thy counfels, doing nought 
Which doth not meet with an eternall thought. 
But above all, thy Church and Spoufe doth prove 
Not the decrees of power, but bands of love. 
Early didft thou arife to plant this vine, 
Which might the more indeare it to be thine. 
Spices come from the Eaft; fo did thy Spoufe, 
Trimme as the light, fweet as the laden boughs 
Of Noahs fhadie vine, chafle as the dove; 
Prepar'd and fitted to receive thy love. 
The courfe was weftward, that the funne might light 
As well our underflanding as our fight. 
Where th' Ark did reft, there Abraham began 
To bring the other Ark from Canaan, 
Mofes purfu'd this: but King Solomon 
Finifh'd and fixt the old religion. 
When it grew loofe, the Jews did hope in vain 
By nailing Chrift to fallen it again. 
But to the Gentiles he bore croffe and all, 
Rending with earthquakes the partition-wall: 
Onely whereas the Ark in glorie fhone, 
Now with the croffe, as with a flaffe, alone, 
Religion, like a pilgrime, weftward bent, 


The Church Militant. 185 

Knocking at all doores, ever as (he went. 

Yet as the funne, though forward be his flight, 

Liftens behinde him, and allows fome light, 

Till all depart : To went the Church her way, 

Letting, while one foot ftept, the other ftay 

Among the eaflern nations for a time, 

Till both removed to the weftcrn clime. 

To Egypt firft (he came, where they did prove 

Wonders of anger once, but now of love. 

The ten Commandments there did flourifh more 

Then the ten bitter plagues had done before. 

Holy Macarius and great Anthonie 

Made Pharaoh Mofes, changing th' hiftorie. 

Gojhen was darkneffe, Egypt full of lights, 

Nilus for monfters brought forth Israelites. 

Such power hath mightie Baptifme to produce 

For things mifshapen, things of higheft ufe. 

How deare to me, O God, thy counfels are ! 

Who may with thee compare ? 
Religion thence fled into Greece, where arts 
Gave her the higheft place in all mens hearts. 
Learning was pos'd, Philofophie was fet, 
Sophifters taken in a fifhers net. 
Plato and Ariftotle were at a lofTe, 
And wheel'd about again to fpell chrift-CroJfe. 
Prayers chas'd fyllogifmes into their den, 
And Ergo was transform'd into Amen. 
Though Greece took horfe as foon as Egypt did, 
And I£pme as both; yet Egypt fafter rid, 
And fpent her period and prefixed time 
Before the other. Greece being paft her prime, 
Religion went to Rome, fubduing thofe, 
Who, that they might fubdue, made all their foes. 
The Warrier his deere skarres no more refounds , 
But feems to yeeld Chrift hath the greater wounds, 
Wounds willingly endur'd to work his blilfe, 
Who by anambufh loft his Paradife. The 

1 86 The Church Militant. 

The great heart ftoops, and taketh from the dufl 

A fad repentance, not the fpoils of lull: 

Quitting his fpear, left it lhould pierce again 

Him in his members, who for him was \Wr\. 

The Shepherds hook grew to a fcepter here , 

Giving new names and numbers to the yeare. 

But th' Empire dwelt in Greece, to comfort them 

Who were cut fhort in Alexanders ftemme. 

In both of thefe ProwefTe and Arts did tame 

And tune mens hearts againft the Gofpel came. 

Which ufmg, and not fearing skill in th'one, 

Or ftrength in th' other, did ere£t her throne. 

Many a rent and ftruggling th' Empire knew, 

( As dying things are wont) untill it flew 

At length to Germanie, ftill weftward bending, 

And there the Churches feftivall attending: 

That as before Empire and Arts made way, 

fFor no leffe Harbingers would ferve then they) 

So they might ftill, and point us out the place 

Where firft the Church fhould raife her down-caft face, 

Strength levels grounds, Art makes a garden there; 

Thenfhowres Religion, and makes all to bear. 

Spain in the Empire fhar'd with Germanie, 

But England \n the higher vidlorie: 

Giving the Church a crown to keep her ftate, 

And not go lefTe then fne had done of late, 

Conft amines Britifh line meant this of old, 

And did this myfterie wrap up and fold 

Within a meet of paper, which was rent 

From times great Chronicle , and hither fent. 

Thus both the Church and Sunne together ran 

Unto the fartheft old meridian. 

How deare to me, O God, thy counfels are ! 

Who may with thee compare T 
Much about one and the fame time and place, 
Both where and when the Church bcganherrace, 


The Church Militant. 187 

Sinne did fct out of Eaftern Babylon, 

And travell'd weflward alfo : journeying on 

He chid the Church away, where e're he came, 

Breaking her peace,and tainting her good name. 

At firft he got to Egypt, and did Tow 

Gardens of gods, which ev'ry yeare did grow, 

Frefh and fine deities. They were at great coft, 

Who for a god clearely a fallet loft. 

Ah,what a thing is man devoid of grace, 

Adoring garlick with an humble face, 

Begging his food of that which he may eat, 

Starving the while he worfhippeth his meat! 

Who makes a root his god, how low is he, 

If God and man be fever'd infinitely! 

What wretchednefTe can give him any room, 

Whofe houfe is foul, while he adores his broom/ 

None will beleeve this now, though money be 

In us the fame transplanted foolerie. 

Thus Sinne in Egypt fneaked for a while; 

His higheft was an ox or crocodile, 

And fuch poore game. Thence he to Greece doth pafle, 

And being craftier much then GoodnefTe was, 

He left behinde him garrifons of finnes 

To make good that which ev'ry day he winnes. 

Here Sinne took heart, and for a garden-bed 

Rich fhrines and oracles he purchafed: 

He grew a gallant, and would needs foretell 

As well what mould befall, as what befell. 

Nay, he became a poet, and would ferve 

His pills of fublimate in that conferve. 

The world came both with hands and purfes full 

To this great lotterie, and all would pull. 

But all was glorious cheating, brave deceit, 

Where fome poore truths were muffled for a bait 

To credit him, and to difcredit thofe 

Who after him mould braver truths difclofe. 


1 88 The Church Militant. 

From Greecehe went to Rome: and as before 
He was a God, now he's an Emperour. 
Nero and others lodg'd him bravely there, 
Put him in truft to rule the Romane fphere. 
Glorie was his chief inftrument of old: 
Pleafure fucceeded ftraight, when that grew cold. 
Which foon was blown to fuch a mightie flame, 
That though our Saviour did deftroy the game, 
Difparking oracles,and all their treafure, 
Setting affliction to encounter pleafure ; 
Yet did a rogue with hope of carnall joy 
Cheat the mo ft fubtill nations. Who fo coy, 
So trimme, as Greece and Egypt? yet their hearts 
Are given over, for their curious arts, 
To fuch Mahometan ftupidities, 
As the old heathen would deem prodigies. 
How deare to me, O God, thy counfels are ! 

Who may with thee compare? 
Onely the Weft and I^ome do keep them free 
From this contagious infidelitie. 
And this is all the Rock, whereof they boaft, 
As I(pme will one day flnde unto her coft. 
Sinne being not able to extirpate quite 
The Churches here, bravely refolv'd one night 
To be a Church-man too, and wear a Mitre : 
The old debauched ruffian would turn writer. 
I faw him in his ftudie,where he fate 
Bufie in controverfies fprung of late. 
A gown and pen became him wondrous well: 
His grave afpect had more of heav'n then hell: 
Onely there was a handfome picture by, 
To which he lent a corner of his eye. 
As Sinnc in Greece?, Prophet was before, 
And in old I(ome a mightie Emperour ; 
So now being Prieft he plainly did profeffe 
To make a jeft of Chrifts three offices: 


The Church Militant. 189 

The rather fmce his fcatter'd jugglings were 

United now in one both time and fphere. 

From Egypt he took pettie deities, 

From Greece oracular infallibilities, 

And from old Ityme the libertie of pleafure, 

By free difpenfings of the Churches treafure. 

Then in memoriall of his ancient throne 

He did furname his palace, Babylon, 

Yet that he might the better gain all nations, 

And make that name good by their tranfmigrations; 

From all thefe places, but at divers times, 

He took fine vizards to conceal his crimes : 

From Egypt Anchorifme and retirednefTe, 

Learning from Greecefiom old Ityme ftatelinefle : 

And blending thefe he carri'd all mens eyes, 

While Truth fat by, counting his victories: 

Whereby he grew apace and fcorn'd to ufe 

Such force as once did captivate the Jews ; 

But did bewitch, and finely work each nation 

Into a voluntarie tranfmigration. 

All pofte to Ifyme: Princes fubmit their necks 

Either t* his publick foot or private tricks. 

It did not fit his gravitie to ftirre, 

Nor his long journey , nor his gout and furre. 

Therefore he fent out able minifters, 

Statefmen within, without doores cloiflerers: 

Who wit hout fpear, or fword, or other drumme 

Then what was in their tongue, did overcome; 

And having conquer'd, did fo ftrangely rule, 

That the whole world did feem but the Popes mule. 

As new and old I{ome did one Empire twill; 

So both together are one Antichrift, 

Yet with two faces,as their Janus was; 

Being in this their old crackt looking-glaffe. 

How deare to me JO God, thy counfeU are\ 

JVho may with thee compare T 


190 The Church Militant. 

Thus Sinne triumphs in Weftern Babylon; 
Yet not as Sinne, but as Religion. 
Of his two thrones he made the latter beft, 
And to defray his journey from the eaft. 
Old and new Babylon are to hell and night, 
As is the moon and funne to heav'n and light. 
When th' one did fet, the other did take place, 
Confronting equally the law and grace. 
They are hells land-marks, Satans double creft: 
They are Sinnes nipples, feeding th' eaft and weft. 
But as in vice the copie ftill exceeds 
The pattern, but not fo in vertuous deeds; 
So though Sinne made his latter feat the better, 
The latter Church is to the iirft a debtcr. 
The fecond Temple could not reach the iirft: 
And the late reformation never durft 
Compare with ancient times and purer yeares; 
But in the Jews and us deferveth tears. 
Nay, it fhall ev'ry yeare decreafe and fade; 
Till fuch a darknefTe do the world invade 
At Chrifts laft coming, as his firft did finde : 
Yet muft there fuch proportions be afftgn'd 
To thefe diminifhings, as is between 
The fpacious world and ]urie to be feen. 
Religion ftands on tip-toe in our land, 
Readie to paffe to the American ftrand. 
When height of malice, and prodigious lufts, 
Impudent finning, witchcrafts, and diftrufts 
( The marks of future bane ) fhall fill our cup 
"Unto the brimme, and make our meafure up; 
When Sein fhall fwallow Tiber, and the Thames 
By letting in them both, pollutes her ftreams: 
When It die of us fhall have her will, 
And all her calender of finnes fulfill; 
Whereby one may fortell, what finnes next yeare 
Shall both in France and England domineer: 


The Church Militant. 191 

Then fhall Religion to America flee : 

They have their times of Gofpel, ev'n as we. 

My God, thou doft prepare for them a way 

By carrying firft their gold from them away: 

For gold and grace did never yet agree: 

Religion alwaies fides with povertie. 

We think we rob them, but we think amifle: 

We are more poore, and they more rich by this. 

Thou wilt revenge their quarrell, making grace 

To pay our debts, and leave our ancient place 

To go to them, while that which now their nation 

But lends to us, fhall be our defolation. 

Yet as the Church fhall thither weftward flie, 

So Sinne fhall trace and dog her inftantly : 

They have their period alfo and fet times 

Both for their vertuous actions and their crimes. 

And where of old the Empire and the Arts 

Ufher'd the Gofpel ever in mens hearts, 

Spain hath done one; when Arts perform the other, 

The Church fhall come,&Sinne theChurch fhall fmo- 

That when they haueaccomplifhed the round, (ther: 

And met in th' eaft their fir ft and ancient found, 

Judgement may meet them both&fearch them round 

Thus do both lights, as well in Church as Sunne, 

Light one another, and together runne. 

Thus alfo Sinne and Darkneffe follow ftill 

The Church and Sunne with all their power and skill. 

But as the Sunne ftill goes both weft and eaft; 

So alfo did the Church by going weft 

Still eaftward go;becaufe it drew more neare 

To time and place, where judgement fhall appeare. 

How deare to me, O God, thy counfels are ! 

Who may with thee compare P 

q L'Envoy. 

®[ L'Envoy. 

KIngofglorie, King of peace, 
With the one make warre to ceafe; 
With the other blefle thy meep, 
Thee to love,in thee to fleep. 
Let not Sinne devoure thy fold, 
Bragging that thy bloud is cold, 
That thy death is alfo dead, 
While his conquefts davlv fpread; 
That thy flefh hath loft his food, 
And thy CrofTe is common wood. 
Choke him, let him fay no more, 
But referve his breath in ftore, 
Till thy conquefts and his fall 
Make his fighs to ufe it all, 
And then bargain with the winde 
To difcharge what is behiade. 

BUjfedbe God alone, 
Thrice bleffed Three in Ora. 


The titles of the feverall poems 
contained in this book. 




A At on 

64. 82. 89. 
Anagram of the Virgin 

Marie 69 

To all Angels and Saint* 

The Anfwer 163 j 

A Tlialogxf-Antheme 


Antiphon 1.5. 85 

Artillerie 1 3 2 

A£urance 149 

Avarice 69 


*He Bag 

The Banquet 
H. Baptijme 

The Britijb Cburtb 102 
The Bunch if Grapes 1 20 
Bujineffe 105 



The Call 


Charms and knots 


Church-loc\ and%ey 
Church Militant 




Church-mufu\ 57 
Church-porch 1 
Church-rents 13 fcbijmes 




C la/ping of hands 
The Collar 



Colof. 3. 3. Our life, &c. 

B* Communion 


Self- Condemnation 
















THe "Dawning 
Tbe Difcharge 


EAfte. 33 

E aft swings 34,35 
The Elixir 178 

Employment 49. 70 

V Envoy 192 

Ephef. 4, 30. Grieve not , 
?SV. 128 

Evenfong 55 

Y?Aitb 41 

P TbeWamilii 130 
7%* Flower 160 

72* /W 1 70 

72* Forerunmrt ibid. 
FrailtU 62 


GIddineffe 119 

27* G/j*w 166 
TbcGlimpJe 148 

Good-friday 30 

Gnw* 52 

Gratefulnsffi 1 16 

Gri^f 158 

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